Knights of Trope: The Twitard war
by Ranger24
Summary: The skies turn red with the blood of the fallen as the newly formed Knights of Trope March out to destroy Edward Cullen and restore honor to the monster genre.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Boot

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Battlestar_ Pheonix_, Knights of Trope flagship, in geosyncronis orbit over Seattle Washington, 9121 hours military time, A day -10.

The CIC was a buzz of activity as newly minted officers of the Knights of Trope rushed about checking the latest intelligence, the ships systems, and other vital bits of information. At the center of the CIC's pit Ranger stood at the tactical table strategizing. He wasn't dressed in his usual atire but a grey unifrom over which he wore his standard green cloak. Behind him however the CIC doors opened to admit an other grey uniformed officer. He wore glasses and had brown hair. He strood over to Ranger and snapped to attention, saluting.

"At ease," Ranger stated without turning. "Good to have you on with us Joe."

"Thanks," Joe replied with a thick texan accent.

Ranger then passed him a fist full of papers, still without looking at him. "Have a look at these."

Joe frowned and took the papers flicking through them. "Invasion plans for Seattle?"

Ranger nodded finally turning to face him. "In the past few days since declaring war against Twilight the Twitards have been massing in Seattle to defend their sparkely god."

"Edward Cullen," Joe muttered. "I thought he was in Forks?"

"He was but when they heard about the declaration they rushed enmasse to Forks and evac'd him with a mass car pool using Civies so we couldn't target the vehicles." Ranger answered.

"And they moved him Seattle for a better chance of a focused defense," Joe muttered.

"Correct," Ranger stated. "They over ran the city and the civies either ran for it or were secured in Athletic arenas. The twitards then raided every gun store, National guard depot, police station, private security office, house hold, Army Navy story, and muesum in seattle to arm themselves."

"How many are the ground troops looking at?" Joe asked.

"Roughly 66,000 twitards, maybe more. We have roughly 78,000 troops finishing up boot camp or ready to go for the invasion within ten days time. But thats not the biggest problem." Ranger stated picking up a small box from the tactical table.

"What's that?" Joe asked.

"Inside is the same type of Microchip used to make artifical vampires." Ranger answered. "We boarded a frieghter carrying hundreds of the things. It also carried body armor, armored vehicles, assault weapons, and explosives."

"They're not cutting any corners are they," Joe growled.

"Doesn't look like it," Ranger replied. "They began fortifying the city after securing it."

"Be hell for the infantry," Joe sighed.

"Thats why we're beggining day and night bombing and bombardments. Soften them enough and the infantry might take a few less casualties." Ranger said. "You'd best head to ground, we got another couple of grunts getting final clearance today. I want you taking control of the first Vanguard personally."

Somewhere in Northern Minnesota, Knights of Trope Training camp, Firing range, 1610 hours military time, A day -10. Lance Corporal Van Compton, 1st Vangaurd Regiment, 2 Battalion, E Company, Second Platoon.

The roar of Pelican and Raptor engines along with the smells of grease and cigars was enough to overwhelm the senses of one not used to it. Still Lance Corporal Van Compton was used to the smell. Even as the noon sun shone down upon them he felt only a little warmth. He was thin and as some would put it looked to Bishonnen to be fighting in a war. He had crew cut blonde hair and light green eyes.

And right now he felt the eyes of a dozen raw trainee's watching him with interest as he stood at the firing range with a large and powerful Lancer assault rifle clentched tightly in his hands. All the while the sergeant stepped forward, outfitted neck to toe in body armor, his head he left uncapped and uncovered to display a black main of hair bedecked with warrior blades. Of course Sergeant Major Garlon Harfang was hardly an orc to be messed with on subject of proper decorum.

"Listen up you green horn whelps," he snarled at the rookies. "Today we're doing point yer stick and kill something 101. Corporal Compton has been kind enough to assist me in pissing some wisdom into your ungrateful skulls."

The sergeant nodded to him and he raised his Lancer up for all to see.

"Take a look boys and girls, what Corporal Compton is carrying is a Lancer assault rifle with chainsaw bayonet attachment. This is what most of you will be fighting with as it is the primary weapon of all Knights of Trope infantry. He will start by showing you how not to shoot." He then nodded to Compton who leveled his rifle on the targets in front of him and emptied half his clip into the targets. Less than half of his bullets even hit a target as his rifle shook violently as it roared out hot silver lead composite rounds.

"You see that?!" Garlon barked. "He's spraying fire all over the range and wasting ammo! If you want to actually hit a target you need to use your damn sights, and fire from a stable stance. Preferably from cover!"

He gave Compton and nod and Compton courched and brought the rifle up to his shoulder. He then opened fire full fury on the targets mowing them down without mercy. Within seconds all targets were KAI.

"You see that? Lethal, efficent accuracy! It is with that gift that we will be killing sprakly freaks in combat! Am I clear!?" Garlon demanded.

"Sir yes sir!" All the recruits barked.

"Damn right," Garlon growled then he turned to Compton and gave him a nod. "Dismissed Corporal."

Compton nodded slinging his rifle and heading off into the camp. It was well ordered lines of hybrid cabin tents that housed roughly 4,200 troops of the first Vanguard Regiment. When the time came to march against Twitards they would be on the front lines. First in meant heavy losses which mean superior training was needed to even hope for a more than sixty percent survival rating. He made his way over to the chow hall hoping to find a few of his buddies for a drink and something to eat when suddenly someone ran up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

"You Corporal Compton?" The soldier asked.

He nodded.

"You're to report to the fire pit ASAP, new CO's having all the NCOs run it." The stated. Compton sighed and then adjusted his Lancer before making his way over to the fire pit. The pit was a live fire obstical course that tested a soldiers ability to quickly eleminate various targets in not a lot of time.

When he entered the starting area of the pit he found another soldier waiting to start the test as well. He was average height, with dark eyes and dark hair. He wore pretty much the same uniform as Compton did but his had a small patch on the side. It depicted a small chibi bat on a red field. That patch announced this guy as a Youkai (or monster) volunteer Irregular Regiment, monsters trained by Hellsing to kill other monsters serving as speacil forces. In his hands he was futsing with a custom hand gun the a cross shaped muzzel.

The Irregular looked up at him and nodded.

"You're the next runner?" He asked.

Compton nodded.

"We'll you'd best get a side arm and some flashbangs from the table," the Irregular replied.

Compton nodded again and headed over to the side table which was covered in various weapons from AA-12's to a Spartan laser. He simply grabbed a M6S and a couple of flashbangs before he turned back to the Irregular who had put his side arm in its hip holster.

"Command wants all of the NCO's to be able to run the Pit in less than sixty seconds. You have one minute to clear the whole combat zone, you can start whenever you're ready." The Irregular explained. Then for some reason he extended his hand.

"Aono Tsukune," He said.

Compton shook it then stepped up to the starting line. Then like a round from his rifle he shot out onto the course rifle raised.

Somewhere in Northern Minnesota, Knights of Trope Training camp, Pit observation deck, 1610 hours military time, A day -10.

"You like what you see sir?" Colonel Uther Huxely asked Joe as he watched the latest runner hit the course.

"Yes I do," Joe replied watching as the runner gunned down target after target successfully.

"He's one of our most controlled shooters sir, rarely puts more than three rounds into a target and always aims for vitals." Huxely continued.

"Heart and head only?" Joe checked.

"Anywhere else on those chip boys is useless unless you can take off a limb," Huxely replied lighting himself up a cigar.

"Well they'd best all be ready," Joe muttered. "We start off for Washington tommorrow."

"I'll have the boys make ready to break camp by tommorrow." Huxely replied.

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**Ranger24: Epic war begins. Read and review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Ranger24: And here's a new chapter folks.**

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Chapter 2: Blood, sweat, and steel.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Battlestar Pheonix, Knights of Trope flagship, in geosyncronis orbit over Seattle Washington, 1221 hours military time, A day -5.**

Ranger rushed onto the the bridge straightening his uniform.

"Status report!" He barked.

Bridge officer Double D saluted motioning to the tactical table.

"The 1st Vanguard, 2nd shock, 4th Devastator, and the 1st Armored Regiments have engaged the enemy sir." He reported.

"Location?" Ranger said.

"The town of Forks in Washington," Double D replied.

"Enemy Strength?" Ranger asked.

"Satellite Imagery confirms numerous defensive bunkers, trenches, and light artillery peices. The enemy has also deploy IED's." Double D reported.

"I said how many?" Ranger growled.

"Roughly five thousand to ten thousand infantry, and light armor in the form of trucks with Machine guns on the Tail gate, and Tanks they looted from a history museum and an army base." Double D replied.

"Air support?" Ranger asked.

"We've reports of news and medical helicopters they've strapped guns on and are using as attack helicopters but nothing confirmed," Double D replied.

"Get me in contact with Joe," Ranger ordered.

"Sir!"

**Forks Washington, Combat zone, 1222 hours, A day -5, Lance Corporal Van Compton, 1st Vanguard Regiment, 2 Battalion, E Company, Second Platoon.**

Compton crawled out of the flipped hog his ears ringing. All around him were other knights of Trope firing lancers, DMR's, M7 caseless submachine guns, BR55 HB's, Rocket launchers, and using the M41's on Warthogs. Tank cannons boomed and explosions ripped the air apart but here he was, struggling in the dirt. He still had his Lancer but his head was spinning. He hardly notice he crawled on top of someones foot until that person yanked him to his feet and punched him in the face.

"Get up Corporal!' Sergeant Garlon roared in his face. "Vanguard up front!"

Compton stumbled back and shook his head clear of confusion and instantly dove for cover behind an over turned warthog tats front had been blown off. All around his brothers and sisters in arms were fighting for their lives spraying lead at the bunkers and putting as much fire down range as they could.

Then another warthog pulled up, this one with a rocket turret and a covered passenger and driver carriage. Out of the hog leaped someone who Compton recognized as their new commander, General Joe. He rushed straight up to the sergeant firing his M4A1 Assault rifle in full bursts.

"Sergeant whats the situation here?" He demanded.

"Enemy bunkers got us pinned, we've lost several hogs already and we're taking casualties!" Garlon replied taking a moment to fire a burst off with his rifle.

"I'm to get air support on us pronto!" Joe replied. "Hold your ground Sergeant. We've got to take this town!"

"What the hell is so important about this dump!?" Private first class Darion Westwood demanded.

"It's the home of the Cullen's taking it will be a huge blow to enemy morale!" Joe replied firing off another burst even as his warthogs gun turret fired off a steady stream of rockets at the enemy emplacements.

"Understood," Garlon growled as he reloaded. "We'll tear this place to shreds."

Then he stood up and fired of a withering long blast from his assault rifle until his magazine was empty before he ducked back down to reload.

Joe meanwhile thumbed his boom mike.

"Attention any air units in the area, this is General Joe, we have heavy enemy resistance requesting fire mission! Danger close!" He barked.

"General this is Viper Two Eight Niner I see you're position and am inbound. Stand by and keep you heads down." A pilot replied.

"Roger that!" Joe replied. "Heads down guys!"

Within thrity seconds two Viper mark VII's shot over past guns blazing and both dropping two bombs a peice. The result? One massive explosion. Shrapnel flew over the heads of the knights of trope along with bits of concrete. Compton stuck his head over the side and saw some pretty massive craters where the bombs had hit. A huge hole had been blown in the enemy defenses.

"Charge the gap!" Joe shouted.

Over their makeshift cover the Knights of Trope charge revving chains, drawing combat knives, raising crowbars, socket wrenches, katannas, and in one case a board with a nail in it. The Twitards, realizing the breach in their defenses, panicked and began to abadone their bunkers before they were over run. To their misfortune however the Knights of Trope were already upon them.

Compton eviscerated a Twitard with his chainsaw bayonet as Garlon hacked off the head of another with an axe! As they slaughtered some of the Twitards turned to fight the Knights of Trope grappling with them, shooting where they could. Nobody even had to aim really. In the confusion Compton saw Westwood smash one Twitard to the ground before emptying his entire rifle magazine into the Twitards chest.

As they slaughtered and the enemy abandoned their defenesive positions on the line more units began charging across the line. Tanks rolled over the bunkers and missiles and rockets shreiked into the town!

Finally the central melee broke down and Compton could hear Joe's voice booming across the battlefield.

"Regroup!" He called waving his M4A1 in the air.

"Police the wounded!" Garlon ordered.

Several Knights shot a round or two into any corpse that moved while the rest of them rushed to regroup with Joe.

"What now sir?" Garlon growled.

"We move in and take the town. Key targets are any buildings metioned in the novel Twilight." Joe replied.

"Sir none of us read that book," Westwood deadpanned.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. First things first is taking as much of the town as we can," Joe replied reloading his rifle. "Move out!"

The Knights reloaded their weapons and moved out into the streets. The sounds of battle rang around them as sporadic rifle fire and Machine gun fire, explosions of grenades and rockets, and the sound of vehicles rolling through the town.

Suddenly there came the distinctive chaka-chaka-chaka of a helicopters rotary blades and a news helicopter swung into veiw, a pair of machine guns haphazardly strapped onto the sides.

"Take cover!" Garlon yelled just as the choppers guns opened fire on them! Three Knights were gunned down before they managed to reach cover in time.

"We gotta take that thing down!" Joe yelled.

Garlon opened fire on chopper but it pulled up out of the way.

"We need armor or air support!" Garlon snarled.

The chopper however flew over their head past them guns blazing.

"Reposition before it comes back!" Joe yelled scrambling from his cover.

The Knights rushed out of their cover and scrambled down a side alley just as the news chopper came back spraying fire all over the place. Joe once more hit his boom mike.

"Overlord this is Black Eagle. I have eyes on enemy air unit, requesting support. Over." He hissed.

"Why are you whispering?" Westwood demanded.

"Can it private," Garlon growled.

Suddenly bullets streamed down the alley!

"Thats why!" Garlon snarled diving for cover.

Three Twitards were on the other side of the alley firing pistols and semi automatic weapons. The Knights of Trope returned fire with a devastating barrage of assault rifle fire which tore the hapless Twitards to shreds.

"We gotta get out of this alley, we're sitting ducks!" Joe yelled.

"Compton take point!" Garlon yelled.

Compton nodded and rushed out of the alley with the others close behind him. Within a few feet of leaving the Alley however the news helicopter flew at them guns blazing!

"Take cover!" Joe yelled opening up on the helicopter.

Suddenly Viper Two Eight Niner shot past guns blazing! The helicopter detonate midair and bits and peices of it fell all around it.

"Thanks for th assistance Two Eight Niner," Joe said over his boom mike.

"No problem sir," Two Eight Niner replied.

"Black Eagle this is Over Lord, we have intense enemy resistance near a store that sells Twilight Memoriblia. Please divert to assist, also command wants you personally to report back to HQ for new orders." Over Lord stated.

Joe muttered a curse under his breath. "Understood I'm en route. 2nd Platoon E-company is en route to assist commander call sign is Slayer-25."

"Over Lord copies all. Over and out." Over lord replied.

Joe sighed and turned to Garlon.

"Sorry Sergeant," he said.

"It's no problem sir, the enemy won't know what hit 'em." Garlon growled hefting his Lancer.

Joe nodded before heading back the way they'd come. Garlon meanwhile light himself up a large cigar and took a drag on it.

"Listen up boys and girls," He growled. "You all heard those egg heads at command. We got a store full of shit to blow the hell out of. Now lets get a move on!"

Then they started off, guns in hand ready to fight. Less than a block away however a shot rang out and everyone hit the ground.

"Sniper!" Westwood yelled.

"No shit Sherlock!" Garlon snarled.

Compton ducked down behind a trash can while others hide behind everything from trees to street lamps to mail boxes to abandoned cars.

"We need to draw it out," Garlon growled. "Westwood, run out their and draw his attention. Everyone else eyes up."

"He'd better just have some hunting rifle with low calibur rounds," Westwood growled, hefting his lancer.

Then Westwood shot across the street. A shot rang out and a peice of asphalt flew into the air.

"Anyone see him?" Garlon hissed.

There were numerous no's.

"Moving again," Westwood said over the radio before running out into the street again. The shot rang out agan but this time Compton saw a flicker of movement in an second story window. Without hesitation he fired off a burst from his Lancer. Out off the window fell what was clearly a low calibur hunting rifle the scope of which snapped off when it hit the street.

"Nice shooting Compton," Garlon growled. "Everyone move up!"

The Knights of Trope surged forward ready to fight.

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**Ranger24: And thats the chapter next time securing forks before moving onto Seattle. FORWARD KNIGHTS OF TROPE!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Fire and flames.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Battlestar Pheonix, Knights of Trope flagship, in geosyncronis orbit over Seattle Washington, 1251 hours military time, A day -5.**

"Sir," Double D said perking up. "I have the General on the horn."

"Patch him through," Ranger ordered.

"_Command you better have a good reason for calling me off the line_," Joe's voice said mixed with static.

"Joe, I want a sitrep," Ranger ordered.

"_Well the armor hasn't reached the front line, we've got troops pinned by enemy sniper and machine gun nests, yeah its a frikin' picnic_." Joe growled.

"I want that town taken," Ranger ordered. "The Cullen House is the primary objective. Clear the enemy out by any means necessary."

_"You got it,_" Joe replied.

"Watch your back down their. I'm authorizing orbital fire support. Satellite weapons and ship board weapons are targeting Forks," Ranger reported.

"_Acknowledged command_," Joe replied.

Ranger sighed terminating the call and rubbed his temples.

"Coffee sir?" Double D asked.

"Na, can't stand that stuff," Ranger growled.

**Forks Washington, Combat zone, 1254 hours, A day -5, Lance Corporal Van Compton, 1st Vangaurd Regiment, 2 Battalion, E Company, Second Platoon.**

"Compton move up!" Garlon roared at him while firing his lancer over the steps he'd taken cover behind.

They were battling over a rather exposed strip of street alongside three other squads against some dozen Twitards. The Twitards had taken cover behind several cars that they'd wedged together in the street to make a makeshift barricade.

"We need to get some rocket's up here!" Westwood yelled.

Suddenly a truck rolled up with a machine gun on the back. The Twitard gunner opened up on the Knights of Trope forcing more of them into cover. Compton dove behind trash can firing off a burst from his rifle.

"We need to suppress that machine gun!" Garlon yelled firing off a burst from his assault rifle.

"With what?" Westwood snapped. "All we've got are assault rifles, sub machine guns, pistols, and melee weapons!"

At that moment however Centaur Tank rolled into the street behind them and fired off a single shell. The shell hit the armed truck right in the driver cabin blowing it clean off destroying the entire vehicle. Garlon grinned from ear to ear.

"With superior fire power," Garlon shot at Westwood.

_"Slayer-25 this Centaur-026, you guys need some support?"_ The Centaur commander called in over the radio.

"You know it 26," Garlon replied. "Think you can clear that barricade?"

"_No problem,_" the Centaur commander replied. The tank fired again and sent a car flying through the air while destroying to more! Twitards cried out in alarm, abandoning their positions.

"Light 'em up!" Garlon yelled opening fire full auto on the Twitards with his Lancer.

Compton rose up over his trash can cover and opened fire. His first burst blew off the head of his first victim before he shifted fire to another. Some of the Twitards returned fire but their lack of training and discipline meant that any round they fired was going wide of the target. One however managed to nail a Knight in the arm. The wounded warrior hit the asphalt clutching at his bleeding wound.

"Get a medic for that trooper!" Garlon barked.

The distraction of the wounded man however was enough for the remaining Twitards to retreat deeper into the town.

"Clear!" Westwood called.

The Knights of Trope emerged from cover one by one while one of the squad medics tended to the wounded.

_"You guys heading deeper in?_" The Centaur Commander asked.

"We've got a platoon pinned down by a store full of Twilight merchandise," Garlon replied. "Having a little armored support should help out a lot."

_"Understood,_" the Centaur commander replied. _"We've got your back."_

Without further remarks the majority of the unit advanced with the Centaur in front. Every now and again a Twitard or two would try to resist only to be cut down effortlessly by the squad. As they rounded a bend a machine gun nest opened up on them forcing the Knights into cover.

"You mind?" Garlon growled.

The response from the Centaur was to blow the machine gun nest sky high.

"That is so satisfying," Westwood said grining.

_"Damn straight,_" the Centaur commander replied.

"Cut the chatter people we've got a lot of ass to kick and I don't feel like waiting all day to do it," Garlon said starting off again.

They surged down the streets again passing other units heading towards other objectives. The sounds of gun fire and explosions still filled the air. After another few blocks however they finally came upon their objective.

The street before them was a chaotic mess. In the streets lay some dozen wound or dead Knights of Trope while the rest of their comrades were hiding behind whatever cover they could find as heavy machine guns sprayed out hot lead from a store which was quiet clearly the target.

"Suppressing fire on those machine guns!" Garlon ordered.

The Knights of Trope surged forward, guns blazing. They rushed to their trapped comrades laying down a withering hail of fire as the tank rolled up to get a shot into the store.

"Trooper whats the situation?" Garlon demanded of the first trooper he reached.

"We're pretty fucked up sir," the trooper replied. "LT bought the farm the moment we entered this street! They've got snipers all over the place."

"Well don't count on those machine guns lasting much longer," Garlon replied.

Then the centaur fired into the store with a devastaing blast! The whole front of the store nearly collapsed and Westwood cackled with delight.

"Hell yeah! I never get tired of that!" Westwood laughed.

Suddenly a Twitard ran out of the store and fired a Javelin rocket directly into the Centaur Tank.

"Get down!" Westwood shouted.

The tank then shook violently after being hit with the blast. When the smoke cleared the tank wasn't in any fighting shape, its turret had been blown clean off by the missile. Fire and smoke belched from its shattered form. Westwood swore and gunned down the Javelin user without mercy.

"Bastards!" He roared.

But even as he ran out of bullets an M-2 Bradely rolled out of a side street and turned its turret towards the Knights of Trope.

"Oh fuck!" Someone yelled mere nano seconds before the Infantry fighting vehicle fired its main gun. The shell screamed through the air and detonated right where half a dozen Knights of Trope had been seeking cover. Garlon swore.

"Supression fire on that Bradely!" He ordered opening up on the armored vehicle to little affect. "Anyone got a Rocket launcher!"

"Our Rocket man got shot with the L..." The Trooper started but then a round burst through the back of his helmet, through his head, and out his face into the street. The sniper who'd taken the shot Compton gunned down with his lancer.

"Compton find that launcher!" Garlon ordered. "Everyone else! Suppressing fire!"

Compton rushed forward as everyone else opened up on the surrounding buildings and the Bradely which fired again, this time it thankfully missed everyone. Compton dove in amongst the bodies of his slain comerades searching for the dead Rocket Jocks weapon. Bullets streamed over his head and skipped on the asphalt around him.

Finally he found the launcher underneath the body of its slain owner. He set down the assault rifle and he picked up the launcher and took aim at the tank. He squeezed the trigger and with a foom and boom the rocket shot out of the tube. It slammed into the Bradely with devastating force, not wanting to take chances Compton fired it again and was reward with a deafening explosion as the vehicle exploded.

Garlon laughed rising to his feet. "Now thats what I'm talking about," he said resting his Assault rifle on his shoulder.

Seeing their vehicle explode the remaining Twitards broke and fled once more leaving themselves exposed to assault rifle fire from the Knights of Trope. Compton set down the empty launcher and hefted his assault rifle.

"Alright people form up!" Garlon ordered waving to the rest of the squad and motioning to the store. The Knights of Trope hurried inside to find the store in ruins. The shelves that once held books were ruined and debris covered the floor. The slain Twitards who'd been defending the store were nothing more than dismembered smoldering corpses.

"Room clear," Westwood reported.

Garlon nodded setting his lancer down against the counter.

"So whats next?" Westwood asked.

"Next stops the Cullen House," Garlon replied. "Other units are pushing towards the local High School and the Hospital. But right now everyone take..."

Before he could finish his sentence a Twitard sprang up behind him drawing a knife!

"Sarge!" Westwood yelled but Garlon didn't appear to need the warning.

The orc grabbed the Twitard by her knife hand and slammed her to the floor! Then he swung out his axe and planted its wicked blade into her stomach! The Twitard screamed in agony slashing at him with her knife but she only tore his combat fatigues her knife scrapping against his body armor. He scowled and then brought his armored boot down on her neck with such force her head practically popped right off.

Finished he yanked his axe out of the Twitards chest flung the blood off it with a swing. He then returned it to its resting place on his back.

"Sir, did anyone ever tell you that you are fucking scary with that thing?" Westwood asked.

"That's the idea Private," Garlong replied taking a drag on his cigar which he had some how kept in his mouth even through all the fighting. The cigar had burned down to the stem and so he pressed it against the counter killing the flame. "That's the idea."

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**Ranger24: And thats the chapter. Read and review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Ranger24: Sorry about the wait been kinda busy lately. Anyways here's the chapter.**

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Chapter 4: Wet work.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Battlestar Pheonix, Knights of Trope flagship, in geosyncronis orbit over Seattle Washington, 2051 hours military time, A day -4.

Ranger stared silently at the tactical display as live satalite footage broadcasted him the battle of Forks. The Twitards had almost completely abandonded the town itself and had fallen back to heavily entrench the Cullen house with Armor, infantry, and what light artillery they had. Casualties had been nasty taking the town but Ranger hadn't expected anything less.

Of the nearly Fifteen thousand Knights of Trope invovled in this battle ninety seven had been killed on the first day along with another one hunderd and fourty two Critcally wounded. They had lost three tanks on the first day and over a dozen warthogs and APC's. The second day had been worse. The Twitards had fallen back to the Highschool and Hospital. They had depolyed IED's in the streets which claimed twenty two lives and wounded another seventy three. The assaults on the highschool and hospital had been costly. One hundred and twenty six dead, two hundred and forty five wound. Five tanks, thrity warthogs, and twenty two APC's had been deystroyed as well. Needless to say it was proving to be a costly assault.

Still his attention was being turned elsewhere.

Double D tapped him on the shoulder.

"Sir," the young bridge crew member stated. "I have Special Ops commander, Tal Ordo online."

Ranger nodded. "Patch him through."

There was brief scratch of radio static before the Mandolorian's voice came through clear.

"Still don't see why you have bullets instead of blasters," he told someone who clearly wasn't Ranger.

"Tal," Ranger said curtly.

"Sir, sorry about that," Tal replied. "Was having a little discussion with the XO you sent me."

"If you want my opinion Bullets are superior to laser rounds because bullets don't have to kill immediately where as blasters have to make on the spot kills." Ranger stated. "It's a matter of trauma to the body. A blaster bolt normally cauterizes the wound the second it makes it, preventing blood lose."

"Okay good point," Tal muttered as the person he'd been talking to laughed.

"Banter aside," Ranger continued. "What've you got to report? You said you'd found an enemy controlled shipyard."

Tal looked rather cross now his face scowling. "That's about all I can give you. I sent in a mixed recon team to get a closer look and they haven't reported back for twenty four hours. Their overdue for check in by six hours."

"You got any images or raw data?" Ranger asked.

"Sir respectfully I have half a dozen of my troops MIA, we need to either find them or attack right now!" Tal growled.

"I want data," Ranger replied. "Yanked right from their logs and computers."

Tal looked caught off guard by this. Ranger smirked.

"Take the ship yard, recover lost squad members if possible, and secure as much raw tactical data as possible." Ranger ordered. "Oh and try to take some prisoners. We might be able to force something out of them."

Tal grinned. "Now your speaking my langauge sir."

**Alutien islands, Attu Island, Twitard shipyard, Speacil Forces Youkia Volunter Irregular regiment Combat Specialist Tsukune Aono, 2123 hours Military time, A day -4.**

Tsukune kept breathing heavily. What felt like just a few hours were long moments of pain and discomfort. Inside a warehouse, his squad was rounded up, some of them dead. Others lay in front of him, dying. Some were slashed with knives, but not killed. Others were pistol-whipped into a barely conscious state. Tsukune though, went through a lot. In only a few hours, he had be cut, water-boarded, and even burned with a cigar on one of his scars. A twitard sat in front of him, grinning at the pain he had inflicted, still holding a cigarette in his hand.

"All bow before Tsukune Aono! A mighty human mixed with vampire blood! Don't make me laugh…We all know that the real vampires are those led by Edward." Mocked the twitard.

"He's…Just a…. f-fucking disgrace!" Shouted a nearby soldier. The twitard got up and punched the soldier and held the cigarette in front of him and shoved it into the man's ear. "ARHHHAH-AHHHHHHH!" The soldier screamed out in pure agony.

"You better watch your mouth. Otherwise..," The twitard started and then proceed to pull out a glock, and shoot the soldier in the leg. "You'll end up like the rest of the group." The twitard finished. The soldier yelled in agony, with the pain he had received. The twitard then walked over to Tsukune and point the gun at him. "Any statements you have to say?" The Twitard asked.

"All I have to say…is-" Tsukune began to say.

"Screw!... you!" The soldier yelled again. The twitard, angered by that statement then shot the soldier in the other leg, the young man screamed in agony collapsing to the side in the fetal position.

"Quit screwing around with 'em!" One of the other Twitards growled. "Just kill 'em quick."

"You never let m have any fun," the smoking Twitard whined before he brought the soldier he'd just shot in the legs to a kneeling position into the man's eye socket.

"Go to hell," the man spat before the Twitard pulled the trigger. Tsukune could feel his heart pounding in his ches as the sadistic Twitard turned to him strolling over casually.

'Moka-san," Tsukune thought in uttter despair picturing her smiling face. 'I'm sorry.'

Then the Twitard grabbed him by the hair and shoved his pistol into Tsukune's mouth.

"Scream boy," The Twitard whispered. "Beg for mercy, its just music to my..."

Suddenly a pair of Knives burst through the Twitards neck! The homaphrodite barely had time to gasp before the knives went in opposite directions and the head flopped off.

"I love doing that," the figure standing over the dead Twitard remarked as his comerades, other Knights of Trope finished off the remaining guards. Tsukune then blanched as he realized the man that had saved him was queit literally a corpse! Bits of bone jutted out from his elbows and shoulders and his fingers had no flesh upon them. One of the Forsaken that had signed on had saved him.

"You all right kid?" The Undead asked cutting Tsukune's bonds with his blood stained knives.

"Not really," Tsukune replied.

"Your better off than most of these guys," A tall figure dressed in beskar'gam armor. The man removed his helmet to reveal himself, to Tsukune's suprise the commander of the entire speacil forces department, Tal Ordo.

"Sir," Tsukune said alert.

Then Tal handed him a M7S submachine gun. "Better hold onto that soldier," he said. "We're tearing this place apart."

Before Tsukune could reply Tal turned and stepped out of the warehoue to join some dozen other Knights of Trope. Tuskune Hurried to join followed by the Undead who'd saved him. Half of hose assembled were Mandolorians like Tal. The rest were a rough mix of other volunters in the irregulars.

Tal raised his left gauntlet to his face and tiny hologram of one of his officers appeared. "Bravo, this is Alpha, light the candles." He ordered.

"Understood," the other mandolorian replied.

Less than a moment later dozens of massive explosions light up the doc yard and drowned out the cires of alarm from the Twitards manning the instalation.

"All units attack!" Tal ordered before charging into the fray firing his blaster. With many various battle cries his comerades followed him in firing all the while. Tsukune stayed close to the Undead who'd assisted him and charged in after his fellow Knights of Trope. It was payback time.

**Battlestar Pheonix, Knights of Trope flagship, in geosyncronis orbit over Seattle Washington, 2126 hours military time, A day -4.**

Ranger couldn't help but feel aggitated as he watched live footage of the assualt on Dock yard began in earnest. He disliked that he had to stay up here on the Pheonix, unable to assist further in the crusade he'd called for.

Stilll watching the forces he'd called in to the fray do what they did best was certainly taking some of the edge off. The Mandolorians and Irregular Speacil Operations Volunteers were positively slaughtering every living thing in the dock yard.

The Mandolorians lived up to their reputation as fearsome warriors, effortlessly dispatching their foes. The Irregular's fought nearly as feircly savagely destroying every enemy that they came upon.

Turning his gaze upon the other files on the tactical table he sighed. The rest of the Knights of Trope, who weren't engaging in the battle for Forks were moving as quickly as they could to begin an encirclment and seige of Seattle. Bombing had only just begun to even scratch at the outter defenses of the city. At times he considered postponing the attack until bombardment had sufficently damaged or destroyed the cities defenses.

Unfortunatly time wasn't on his side.

At that percise mount Double D tapped him on the shoulder.

"Sir," he stated.

"Yes?" Ranger muttered.

"You have a call for you from the UN's laison for us," Double D answered.

Ranger sighed and then nodded.

"Tell him I'll take it in my quarters," Ranger ordered.

Double D nodded and turned back to the communications officer. Ranger meanwhile swept out of the CIC and made his way through the myriad of corridors to his private quarters.

The room was decent enough for him to live in. There were two couches around a small coffee table in one corner, numerous book shelves, and several pictures lining the walls. He ignored these however and sat himself down behind his desk. He flicked on the computer and the video communication came through.

"Mr. Campbell," Ranger greeted. "I hope this isn't a social call."

Roy Campbell frowned at him. The former leader of Foxhound now working for the UN had been tasked with making sure Ranger's crusade didn't get out of control.

"As much as I wish it was its not," Campbell replied. "The UN is never to excited when a large armed group goes on a rampage."

Ranger nodded. "As I've told you before Mr. Campbell we're not going on a rampage. Our efforts are solely focused on finishing this war as quickly as possible."

"I understand that but many in the UN are concerned about this. And I want you to know the US Supreme Court was considering whether or not this was a breach of the first Amendment." Campbell replied.

"And their verdict?" Ranger asked.

"They would have considered it such but then the Twitards over ran Seattle. This officially being labeled a terrorist situation." Campbell replied.

"So do we have the UN's blessing on this?" Ranger asked.

"I didn't say that," Campbell replied. "You're skating thin ice right now. The US military is preparing for an armed response to the situation and if you put one toe out of line, you'd be facing war crimes charges."

Ranger nodded. "Understood.

* * *

**Ranger24: Yes that is Roy Campbell from MGS. Read and review.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Ranger24: Sorry about the wait everyone. I hit my summer lazy mode but now I'm back.**

* * *

Chapter 5: Trojan Horse

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Alutien islands, Attu Island, Twitard shipyard, Speacil Forces Youkia Volunter Irregular regiment Combat Specialist Tsukune Aono, 2133 hours Military time, A day -4.**

Gun fire filled the air as Tsukune dove for cover behind several stacked crates to reload his SMG. Fire leapt up a few contianers away and an explosion drowned out the screams of battle cries and the wounded. He peered around the crates to see four Twitards trying to hold up at the entrance of a warehouse with a 30 calibur machine gun.

Two members of the Irregular's were cut down by the gun as it held up an entire squad. As much as Tsukune wanted to help them he knew he couldn't get of a clear shot on the gun with his SMG before the gun would redirect its fire on him. He didn't have any grenades either and it was to far away for it to matter.

Then a Female voice spoke from behind him.

"Mind if I borrow your shoulder Tsukune?"

Tsukune was about to turn to the speaker when she set the props of a Barret on his shoulder and then fired. Tsukunes whole body shook from the shock but the twitard manning the Machine gun got the worst of it. The fifty calibur round blew her head into bone fragments and blood vapor. The Twitards caught off guard by the death of the gunner struggled to move her body and were helpless as vengefull knights of Trope swarmed over them guns blazing.

The gun was lifted off his shoulder and he turned to see Mizore standing behind him a staisfied look on her face.

"Do you always have to sneak up on me?" He demanded.

"Stalking looses its fun when the stalked knows about it," Mizore replied.

Tsukune shook his head in disbelief.

"Look on the bright side," Mizore added. "You didn't loose your arm from that."

"Nearly did," Tsukune muttered rubbing his shoulder.

"Aono, Shirayuki!" A voice barked.

The Two ofthe turned to the source to find Tal Ordo coming up behind them half a dozen Mandolorians in tow.

"Quit chit chatting and get back to fighting!" He ordered.

"Yes sir," Tsukune replied.

"Shirayuki, we're taking the Control tower for the docks," Tal stated motioning to the Large tower on the end of the Peir. "Set yourself up to pull some supporting fire."

"Fine by me," Mizore replied hefting her rifle.

"Aono you're with us," Tal added.

Mizore then winked at Tsukune. "Don't worry I got your back."

'That's what I'm afraid of,' Tsukune thought to himself.

**Battlestar Pheonix, Knights of Trope flagship, in geosyncronis orbit over Seattle Washington, 2134 hours military time, A day -4.**

Ranger hurried back into CIC and resumed his post.

"Sir," Double D reported. "Commander Ordo has begun his final assault on the Port."

"Good," Ranger stated. "Anything else."

Double D shuffled his feet. "Um, one other thing sir."

"Yeah?"

"One of our patrols near Forks went dark. Most of the squads transponders went dark but one is still transmitting," Double D replied.

"Who'd they take?" Ranger asked.

"Xion," Double D answered.

"The Nobody?" Ranger checked.

"Yes sir."

Ranger cursed, Joe was going to be pissed.

"Also I have Joe on the line sir," Double D added.

"Speak of the Devil," Ranger muttered. "Patch him through."

He picked up the head set for the comm system as Double D flipped a switch.

"_Ranger you got to let me go get her_," Joe's voice demanded.

"Joe I understand your concern but we got a lot going on right now and I can't spare you anyone to go after her," Ranger answered.

"_You don't get it man_!" Joe snapped.

"What don't I get?" Ranger demanded.

"_Xion's unit came upon a Twitard bunker that had some serious tech in it, we're talking an enemy comms station_," Joe replied.

"And you think she might have found something," Ranger concluded.

"_Yes_," Joe finished.

Ranger cursed and face palmed.

"Joe I can't give you anyone..."

"_I can get my own team together, I just need one transport_." Joe replied.

Ranger frowned lowering is hand.

"I might be able to get you dropship, but you've got a limited window of opportunity man. We hit Seattle in four days and I'm going to need you on the front."

"_We'll have it done in twenty four hours_," Joe affirmed.

Ranger leaned against the tactical table and then sighed.

"Alright, you have the green light," he said.

_"Understood_," Joe replied.

There was a pause.

"_How's Mizore doing_?" He asked.

Ranger couldn't help but smirk.

"Well she's not a casualty yet," Ranger replied.

**Alutien islands, Attu Island, Twitard shipyard, Speacil Forces Youkia Volunter Irregular regiment Combat Specialist Tsukune Aono, 2135 hours Military time, A day -4.**

"Move up!" Tal roared firing his Blaster rifle.

The Knights of Trope surged through the cargo containers cutting down anyone that got in their way. Fire Streamed down from a cargo ship at the dock but Tsukune kept his head down. He could see several Knights of Trope charging up the Gangway of the ship guns blazing.

A grenade went off a head of him blinding him for a second and he tripped over a prone form. He pushed himself up and saw that he had fallen over the Undead that had rescued him from the Twitards. His torso had been blown in half and his once glowing yellow eyes were now dark. Tsukune stared at him for a moment before someone grabbed him by the shoulders. He saw a mane of silver hair and instantly new who'd just grabbed him.

"Moka I'm okay," Tsukune replied as she pulled him to his feet.

Then Moka's open palm smashed into his face and he was thrown again to the ground. He turned himself over to see her glowing red eyes livid with rage.

"Don't you ever!" She yelled grabbing him by the collar and pulling him to his feet. "Make the Outer me worry like that again!"

"I'm sorry!" Tsukune yelped. "I got captured, they took us by suprise!"

Still glaring at him she released him and hefted her Lancer.

"Just so we're clear," she growled. "If you get yourself killed in all of this, I will personally go to the after life and kill you again."

Tsukune gulped, knowing Inner Moka she would probably follow through with her threat.

"Also," she said suddenly drawing close to him and throwing in arm over his shoulder. Then she sank her fangs into his throat.

"For crying out loud Moka in the middle of a battle?" He yelled.

She pulled herself out after only a second or two and licked her lips clean.

"What I was hungery? Killing these fakes is thristy bussiness," she said dismissively before hurrying on a head.

Tsukune sighed slapping a dressing on the bite before hurrying after her.

They reached the tower where Tal and a dozen others had already begun stacking up to breach the door.

"Watch your fire and check your targets," Tal ordered. "I don't want any friendly fire."

Then with one mighty kick, he bashed the door open and the Mandolorian across the door from him threw in a flash bang. There was a blast and the Knights of Trope charged in. Two Twitards on the Staircase were recovering from the blast when they were ripped to shreds by a hurricane of bullets and Laser fire.

They rushed up the stairs only for a grenade to drop down the steps towards them.

"Grenade!" Tal yelled.

The Knight closest to it picked it up and threw it out the window just barely in time. The blast however sent glass slashing into the man and he fell to the ground screaming in pain.

"Get a medic for that man," Tal barked continuing his charge up the steps.

The were almost at the top when a second grenade fell this time not two knights ahead of Tsukune. Before anyone could stop him, the Knight closest to the grenade leapt onto it. There was a deafening blast and blood flew everywhere. The Knight right ahead of Tsukune fell to steps. Tsukune tried to ignore the bodies but the sight of it all was burned into his mind.

Finally the reached the top of thestairs and Tal hurled a grenade into the top room. There was a blast and then the Knights of Trope charged in guns blazing. Of some ten Twitards that had been in the control tower four had been killed by the blast. The remaining six turned drawing pistols only for a round to go flying through the window and into the head of one who looked to be the leader.

The five Twitards fired on Tal but their bullets bounced off his beskar'gam armor. The knights of Trope stormed into the room and cut down the Twitards with ease.

"Clear!" One of the Mandolorians called.

Tal nodded.

"Good," he said before plaing a hand to his helmet.

Tsukune gave a sigh of relief and leaned against the railing to the stairs utterly spent. Moka shot a concerned glance at him.

"Command, this is Speacil Ops wharf is secure," Tal stated.

There was a pause as he listened to the response. Then he turned to the ship at dock.

"Negative on that evac command," he replied. "Just send me the rest of my boys and some medevac. I got an idea."

* * *

**Ranger24: What is Tal's plan? How fare the Knights of Trope in forks, and what shall become of Xion? Find out next time.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Ranger24: So long... So long with out updates...**

* * *

Chapter 6: Taking Forks

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Battlestar _Phoenix_, Knights of Trope flagship, in geosynchronous orbit over Seattle Washington, 0912 hours military time, A day -3.**

Double D once more saluted as Ranger entered the _Phoenix_'s CIC.

"Morning sir," Double D stated.

"Status?" Ranger asked taking his place at the tactical table.

"Commander Ordo," Double D said passing Ranger a tablet. "And his forces are underway to Seattle via captured enemy transport, General Joe went radio silent two hours ago as per plan, and the _Revan_ and the _Kamina_ will be joining us soon."

"And Forks?" Ranger asked.

"Locked in a stalemate sir," Double D answered.

"Show me."

Double D pressed a few buttons and in a flash the table showed a 3rd layout of the town.

"Our troops have taken the town sir but the enemy has taken to the woods around the Cullen house. They've fortified the woods with what artillery they have left and dug in. We legally can't carpet bomb or Orbital bombard the area because the trees are considered to valuable apart of Washington's economy."

"And infantry can't advance without armor support," Ranger concluded.

"Yes sir." Double D replied. "We need prescion fire to get the enemy running and it has be ground fire."

Ranger smirked.

"Then I guess its time to try out our new toys," Ranger said. "Send in the Demolishers. I want this town taken before noon."

"Yes sir!"

**Forks Washington, Combat zone, 1001 hours, A day -3, Lance Corporal Van Compton, 1st Vanguard Regiment, 2 Battalion, E Company, Second Platoon.**

The thump of mortar and the crack of sniper fire were the only sounds to come to Corporal Compton's ears as sat in his fox hole cleaning his Lancer assault rifle. Five feet away in another Fox Hole Garlon was sharpening his axe and five feet beyond him Westwood was reading a newspaper.

"Anything good in there?" Garlon asked not taking off his axe.

"Usual crap," Westwood replied. "People are arguing over the justification for this war. Some of them think we're crazy others think we've gone a bit to far."

"Bunch of peace loving Hippeys," Garlon growled. "Humans don't understand a damn thing about the world."

"Or really?" Westwood replied raising an eyebrow.

"Humans despise war because of the violence and the fact that people kill each other. What they fail to realize is that conflict is required by nature," Garlon replied. "Conflict forces beings to grow, to adapt, to evolve. Without conflict the world becomes stagnant and dies. Whether its war, love, or business conflict is the force that makes it all happen."

"So you think that a war should be fought for just any reason?" Westwood asked.

Garlon shook his head. "That's not what I said boy. Conflict is simply the catalyst it is those of us blessed with sentience that decide how to react to it. Flight or fight. And we do not grow if we flee from conflict."

Westwood shook his head.

But before he could give his rebuttal a shell exploded less than twelve feet from the their fox holes showering them in dirt and debris!

"Get down!" Garlon barked and the men of second platoon hunkered down as explosive shells showered in around them.

Compton looked up over the lip of his hole to see a dozen T-72's roaring our of the woods with infantry moving in from behind to support them.

"Its a whole damn battalion!" Westwood called out.

"Open fire Knights!" Garlon roared firing his lancer at the infantry.

"Where's the heavy support?" Somebody screamed.

"Medic!"

"Suppressing fire!" Garlon roared.

The Knight poured it on but the enemy infantry took cover behind their tanks rendering their assault weapons fire useless. Machine gun positions along the line opened up but against the russian built tanks they might as well have been spitting paper wads at them.

"Slayer-25 to Over-watch! We have an enemy counteract in progress, they've got armor! We need fire support here ASAP!" Garlon barked into his radio.

_"Roger that Slayer-25 heavy support is five minutes out stand by," _Overwatch replied.

"We don't have that long!" Garlon barked reloading his lancer.

A tank shell then exploded right over their heads and Compton's world went dark.

**Forks Washington, Combat zone, 1005 hours, A day -3, Lance Corporal Van Compton, 1st Vanguard Regiment, 2 Battalion, E Company, Second Platoon.**

Compton felt the butt of a rifle strike his face. He gave out a cry of pain and opened his eyes to see that he and what was left of Second Platoon had been over run and captured by the Twitards.

"Morning sunshine," the Twitard who'd hit him said in mockingly sweet tones. "Have a nice nap?"

There was a commotion and Compton looked up to see Garlon wrestling with a Twitard for his axe.

"Hand it over you green skinned piece of shit!" The Twitard snarled struggling against the Orc's greater strength.

"You clearly don't know the watch words of my people scum," Garlon snarled even as the other Twitards leveled their weapons on him.

"And those would be?" The Twitard snapped.

Garlon yanked the axe from the Twitard and then cut off its head. "LOK'TAR OGAR!"

"The fuck does that mean?" Another Twitard demanded.

Suddenly there came a loud crack as something broke the sound barrier and the nearest T-72 exploded into a shower of flames and shrapnel! Compton snatched up his fallen M6S service pistol and snapped off a quick head shot on the Twitard that had hit him. Garlon leapt into the mass of Twitards hacking them apart with his axe and the other member of second platoon snatched up their weapons and joined the fight as more T-72's exploded. Within a minute all of the Twitards were dead save the one who had asked what Lok'tar Ogar meant. Garlon kicked the Twitard to the ground and then raised his axe.

"Victory or death," he answered and then he planted his axe in the Twitards skull.

"Someone mind telling me what the hell just happened?" Westwood said hefting his lancer.

Garlon grinned. "That."

They turned and saw coming up the hill behind them, their saviors. A platoon of massive angular tanks the Knights of Tropes first self built and designed war machines, the H-20 Demolisher II Siege Tank.

"Halle-fuckin-lujeh!" Westwood proclaimed.

The Demolisher II Siege Tank, a twelve ton Titanum Carbon-Ceramic clad beast. Packing three twin 50 calibur machine guns and two 120mm rail guns that could combine into a massive 240mm Siege Cannon, not to mention a friging battering ram and dozer blades. Based around the frame work for a Horde Demolisher Siege tank the tank not only packed excellent fire power and great armor but had a top speed of 65 miles per hour.

The Demolisher's rolled on past them heading towards the forest firing into it with perscion shots from their rail guns. Garlon snatched up his lancer and slapped in a fresh clip.

"What are we waiting for ladies?" He demanded. "I want to be the one to set that damn house on fire!"

Second Platoon streamed out of their foxholes and charged after the Demolishers. Along the line other unit were joining them charginng into the forest raising a great cheer.

"Lok'tar Ogar!" Garlon called out.

"Victory or death!" Second platoon responded.

The forest turned into a blur of death and destruction. The Twitard defenders were caught completely off guard by the Demolishers which effortlessly blew apart there defenses. The infantry would then effortlessly began beating the Twitards to a pulp with rifle fire, grenade, and bayonets. In less than two minutes they had advanced over two hundred yards across hostile ground and now, everywhere they looked Twitards were running only to be mowed down.

Then at last they came within sight of their objective. The Cullen house. Defended by a line of trenches with macchine gun nests and a small howitzer. The Tanks knocked through the defenses in seventy seconds.

Garlon, to his apparent delight, was the first to reach the front door. Second Platoon stacked up and Westwood pulled out a M-23 Katana shot gun.

"Blow this door down," Garlon ordered.

Westwood nodded. He stepped before the door and then blasted off the hinges. Garlon then punched in the door and Compton tossed in a Spike grenade. A second later the grenade went off and there came screams of pain. Second Platoon poured in to find four Twitards in the entrance way, two had steel spikes sticking in them while four more on the ground were dead with their backs turned into swiss cheese. The Knights of Trope gunned down the Survivors and fanned out to secure the house. Compton, Garlon, and Westwood ran for the stairs only to have assualt rifle fire rain down on them. Single Twitard was standing on the floor above shooting at them.

"Kill that bastard," Garlon barked.

The Garlon and Compton opened fire with their Lancers while Westwood used his Shotgun. The Twitard and a good portion of the railing were turned into bit of bloody material.

"Move up," Garlon said motioning to the stairs and Westwood took point with his Shotgun, Compton took center and Garlon brought up the rear.

Sporadic gunfire could be heard elsewhere in the house but their climb was uninterupted. They reached the main hall way to find it empty. Down the hall however they could here a frantic voice speaking.

"We're overrun, repeat we're overrun!" The speaker said in panicked tones.

The three knight hurried to the door and Garlon nodded. The Three stacked up with Compton still in the center, now with his M6S out.

Westwood blew the door off its hinges and kicked it in. The single Twitard inside turned to face them pulling out an M9 Barreta pistol. Compton shot the Twitard in the head and he fell to the ground dead. Inside the bedroom was a mass of radio equipment and computers. Garlon whistled.

"Hot damn," he said. "Theres probably enough intel here to make the egg heads orgasm."

"Lovely metaphor sir," Westwood said sarcastically.

* * *

**Ranger24: FINALLY DONE WITH THIS DAMN BATTLE! DEAR GOD THIS FIC'S TWO YEARS OLD NEARLY! **

**Umm... Sorry bout that folks. Read and review.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Ranger24: This latest Chapter was done by Joe. Thank god. He saved me a lot of work. All credit for this chapter again goes to Joe, otherwise known as Captainface.**

* * *

Chapter 7: Leave none behind.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Northern Washington, Twitard Compound near Lake Crescent, 2109 hours, A day -3, General Joe, Speacil Strike Team Codename Texas.**

Night was heavy in the air. A single two man Twitard Patrol roamed the outside of the compound. One of them paused.

"What is it?" His fellow, a female Twitard asked.

"Gotta piss," he replied turning to face a bush.

"I told you to go before we left," she snapped.

"Get off my..."

A suppressed shot rang out and the male Twitard fell dead. A tenth of a second later the second collapsed dead as well from a second.

"Nikolai, Polonsky, on me!" Joe barked out climbing out of the bush the male Twitard has about to piss on.

"What's all the jabbering about, I got things I want to do!" said a man in a heavy Russian accent. The man stepped forward in brown uniform with a Russian Pilotka, covered in a cloth on his head. It was Nikolai Belinski, a friend of Joe who fought many battles with him.

"We have a special assignment. As much as I love to stay here and monitor the situation, we have an important person held captive that we need to get back, pronto."

"Who is this person?" Polonsky asked. Polonsky was a young blonde haired guy, probably 19 or 20.

"Xion," Joe replied, setting a file down on a table. "She was seen over with a squad monitoring the takeover of one of the local buildings, which contained some important intelligence, when she was taken hostage. Sources indicate that she may have been taken to Lake Crescent. We need to get in, rescue her and get back here."

"I don't understand." Nikolai said as he took a drink out of a bottle he held. "She's a good fighter, how could she have been caught? And what's more, couldn't she have escaped?"

"Well these twitards apparently ambushed her and tied her down. She's too valuable to lose...and a good friend. And these twitards seem to think that it's payback for some of the damage we've done. Now, gear yourselves up. We got a hard mission ahead of us." Joe replied

Several hours later, nighttime, in the forest outside of Lake Crescent, Joe handed Polosnky a silenced M4A1 Carbine, Joe had a silenced MP5, and Nikolai had a PPsh-41, a weapon he liked to always carry, and a silenced AK-47

"Alright, the building they took is outside the forest. We need to move in, get her out and get to the LZ before they notice that she's gone. And remember: Stealth is key, don't make too much noise." Joe added. Nikolai then nodded

"Yes sir." Polonsky replied. The group then moved forward. After a few steps there was a shack up. Nikolai signaled the location of it.

"Why are we here, can't we head back to the facility and just continue "questioning" her?" said a twitard inside the shack.

"If we did that, then we wouldn't have terms to make revenge on those prick's who've taken part of the town." the other twitard replied. Nikolai then jumped in and held the AK-47 at their faces

"Don't move! Give me the key card to get into the facility!" Nikolai slurred to the twitards.

"….Yeah right, you drunk!" One of them picked up a Scar rifle but go shot by Nikolai and then quickly aimed the gun at the other person, who instantly raised her hand to pick up a pistol, but was shot in the leg by Polonsky.

"Well, that was easy than planned." Polonsky commented, he then ran up and took a key card from the twitard.

"That's how the Red Menace works!" Nikolai said. The group then moved forward as saw a building with an arch like entrance, with several twitards guarding the entrance.

"It's like those bastards are expecting us or someone to come." Polonsky whispered.

"Well we have a few options. We could take them out or we can sneak around. Whatever it may be, we need to get to her." Joe whispered back.

"I got it. Allow me to distract them" Nikolai said. Joe and Polonsky looked at each briefly and then knew what was going to happen. He then walked over, only with a bottle of vodka, and stumbled about. The twitards looked confused for a second.

"Ugh…this vodka is shit," Nikolai mumbled and then looked up. "…Wow, it's a distillery! Just my luck!" He said.

"Hey, hey, hey! This place is off limits!" One the twitards said. Nikolai then took a drink out of his bottle and then looked at him.

"What, can't a comrade get more to drink?" He asked. Nikolai then hit the twitard with his fist, knocking her out. The other Twitard then ran up and went to get Nikolai but then Joe jumped out of the bushes and hit him with his MP5, knocking him out.

"See? Fists hurt more than bottles. All the more reason for me to get more to drink, I don't want to waste my drink to hurt you!" Nikolai chuckled. They then dragged them into the bushes, and tied them up. Polonsky then noticed a few jeeps.

"We could use one of them to escape."

"I have a better idea," Joe commented. He then reached into his backpack and pulled out a package of C4.

"We'll take one of them to take back to the LZ, but the rest will be a distraction. We'll go in the same entrance, but we'll cause the explosion over on the other side." He then grinned at the explosion he knew would be made. They then moved most of the jeeps over to the side and then Polonsky and Joe tied the C4 to the gas engines. Nikolai had taken and hidden the last jeep behind a bush. They then walked towards the entrance, swiped the card in the slot, and then Joe signaled to Polonsky to fire the C4.

BOOOOM!

The jeeps went off like fireworks. The facility then went on alert and several twitards went to examine the explosion.

"Now!" Joe yelled. The group then rushed in, guns a-blazing, firing at several twitards guarding their posts. Nikolai fired his PPsH-41 while Polonsky fired his M4 carbine. Joe fired off his MP5, but was searching room by room for any clues that lead to Xion.

"Chyort! Is there anything! Because Nikolai could use some help!" Nikolai shouted.

"I'm working on it!" Joe shouted, shooting the MP5. He then rushed into another room and found a clipboard next to a sleeping twitard.

"How you can sleep through this, I'll never know." Joe commented as he grabbed the clipboard. He took a look at it. Jackpot. That's what he needed to find Xion in this facility. But as soon as he was about to walk out, the twitard jumped at him with a pistol and knife, knocking his MP5 out of his hand.

"You won't take that Mary-Sue alive!" She shouted. She then wrestled with Joe, dropping the clipboard. Joe then grabbed her and slammed her against the wall and punched her, knocking the pistol out of her hand. She then tried to stab him in the torso, but Joe desperately held her arm back. He fought it for a second then kicked her off of him and grabbed the pistol.

BANG!

The twitard got shot in the head, and fell to the ground.

"Xion isn't a Mary-Sue, like your princess Bella!" Joe lashed back at her. Joe then looked over to find Polonsky picking up the clipboard which had the room number Xion was kept in and the password to enter.

"Sir, I believe this is ours for the moment?" He joked.

"It is Polonsky. Now let's move to the elevators!" Joe replied, grabbing his weapon. Nikolai was still firing but relieved to see the other two run up.

"About friggin time!" Nikolai shouted. They then charged forward to elevator when a few more twitards came running, shooting at them.

"I got this!" Polonsky yelled. He kicked the 3rd floor button, and then threw a grenade out of the door as it closed, exploding at the twitards when the door finally shut. The elevator then began its decent. They quickly reloaded their weapons, expecting a fight when they got off. They couldn't have been anymore right. 5 twitards began to shoot like crazy forcing the group to the sides of the elevator. Joe and Nikolai shot the occasionally burst back when Polonsky then threw a flash bang, blinding the twitards long enough to be mowed down. They then ran up to a steel door with a keypad.

'Xion's room' they all thought. Joe then entered the code in, 11-9-10. The door began to slowly creep open. The group all hand their guns ready for what would be another fight. But when the door opened, they found something much better. Xion was up, trying to strangle a guard with a keyblade. She then pulled the keyblade up higher but the guard then tried to punch her until Nikolai shot the guard.

"Thanks… (pant)…I needed some help" Xion panted.

"Xion, your okay, thank goodness." Joe went over to help her. "We need to get you out of here, before they come for us." He then gave her an M16 that belonged to the guard

"Knowing what the guard was up to when the alarms went off, you're probably right."

"Sir, there's a window here. From what it looks like, we can go through here and get to the jeep real easily." Polonsky said.

"Dah, it's always a jump." Nikolai said.

"Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained." Joe said. He then picked up the chair and threw it through the window. He then got a grapping hook and rope and put it against the window base, and began to climb down. When he got down he ran to get the jeep while the others climbed down. Nikolai came last and clumsily fell to ground at the last second.

"Ow, my back." He mumbled. He quickly got up and ran over to the jeep with the others. As soon as they got in, they began to drive off towards the LZ, hopefully avoiding anymore contact with the enemy.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Dead of night

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Battlestar Phoenix, Knights of Trope flagship, in geosynchronous orbit over Seattle Washington, 0101 hours military time, A day -2**

Ranger rubbed his tired eyes trying not to fall asleep on his feet.

"Status on the Kamina and Revan?" Ranger asked trying to keep himself awake.

The Kamina and the Revan, the Pheonix's new sister ships. Two additional Pheonix class Battlestars each loaded to the gills with all the weapons and singleships the Pheonix had to offer. Though Ranger doubted that the Twitards had warships of their own, it paid to be careful seeing as how they'd somehow gotten a force of T-72's.

Ensign Marconni, Double D's night watch counterpart answered him.

"Both are still enroute from the Io Ship yards," he reported. "They'll arrive at 0930 Military Standard Time sir."

"And what about their special cargo?" Ranger asked trying to sound hopeful.

Marconni grimaced.

"Of the 87 units we recovered only 42 are in working condition. The techs are cannibalizing parts from the rest to try and bring them online. Even so, most of that stuffs going to have to be replaced the things are Dinosaurs."

"Vf-1 Valkyries are not Dinosaurs," Ranger replied. "And if you see that again I'll have you sent to the brig."

"Very well sir."

Suddenly an alert light came to life and began to whine.

"Contact!" Marconni reported. "Missile closing on General Joe's transport! Multiple missiles being detected launching from Seatle!"

"What!" Ranger exclaimed.

"Missiles are on intercept course for us sir!" Marconni added, "Impact in two minutes ten seconds."

"Bring Point Defense guns online!" Ranger ordered. "Raise shields!"

"What about Joe sir?" Marconni asked.

"Alert him right now," Ranger snapped.

"Yes sir!"

Ranger then stood in silence. He despised having to operate like this, he was powerless, useless.

"CWIS opening up," the gunnery officer reported.

Ranger glanced up at the DRADIS display and waited. Half a second later almost all of the inbound missiles vanished from the screen with more dropping off. The Missiles kept vanishing one by one as the Phoenix's guns took them out. Then one slipped through the field of fire.

"One contact left," Marconni reported.

Then suddenly a dozen new targets erupted from the single missile.

"What the!" Marconni exclaimed.

Ranger's face went white. He snatched up the ship wide comm head set.

"All hands brace for impact!"

The dozen war heads impacted with the ships shields. The ship shuddered under the first impacts and the shields flared to life. Nuclear fire balls roared against the ship trying crack its shields. Then the main missile hit and the shields failed entirely.

**Outside Lake Cresent, 0101 hours military time, A day -2**

Joe, Nikolai, Polonsky and Xion were racing the Jeep back to the LZ. Just then several bright flashes appear in the sky. Missiles.

"What the fuck was that?" Nikolai shouted.

"Enemy Predator inbound!" Polonsky yelled, trying to speed the jeep from it, but the missile was apparently being controlled.

"It's still homing on us!" Xion yelled.

"Brace for impact!" Joe yelled. Just then the missile struck the ground, sending the rolling over, throwing the crew out. The jeep then crashed into a tree, where it was rendered useless to drive now.

The group then began to slowly get up, a bit hurt, but still in one piece. Joe looked over to see Xion lying nearby him. When the missile struck, he grabbed her to make sure she was safe, moving her to block the blast and any shrapnel that may have followed. His quick action had saved her from major injury, but Xion was out like a light from hitting the ground.

"Xion! Is our female comrade alright?" Nikolai yelled, stumbling to them.

"She's alright...No broken bones." Joe checked.

"Shit, we must have been spotted when we left. How are we suppose to get back now?" Polonsky groaned.

"We're still in one piece, we can walk! Get whatever gear you two have and let's get moving. We need to get to the LZ fast, I did not like the sight of those missiles. Polonsky, check the radio! We need to see if Ranger and the crew are alright."

"The radio in the jeep is dead, and we can't use the handhelds because the trees are making it hard to receive a good signal."

"Shit…We'll have to use them when we reach the LZ…(sighs) Well, we can't complain, we need to move."

"What about Xion?" Nikolai said.

"I got her," Joe said as he lifted her onto his back. "I still have my handgun, I can protect us if I need to. Now move up!" he yelled while carrying Xion and weapons. The others grabbed whatever they could salvage from the wreck and moved onwards through the forest.

"Let's hope someone like Sergeant Garlon can help us… (Belch)" Nikolai said after taking a swig of his drink.

"Nikolai, he's on the front. It'd take a miracle for that to happen." Polonsky replied to him

"What? A soldier can hope, yeah?"

"Come on both of you. Focus on getting to the LZ." Joe said to them. They staggered through the forest. They came across a barn, with two Twitards guarding it, offering cigarettes to each other. They were heavily armed Nikolai and Polonsky aimed their silenced weapons at them, not being noticed by the guards

"Take them out on my mark….Three…" Joe Whispered. The other two waited, trying not to give themselves away.

"Two…One…Now!" Joe said. Then the two shot them, but it only pushed the twitards back a bit. The two twitards then came running at Nikolai and Polonsky, shooting rapidly at them. As soon as they got closer to the two, Nikolai and Polonsky let loose a full clip from their guns. That finally took down the twitards

"Goodnight to you two." Polonsky whispered. The group moved then searched around the barn, looking for anything of use.

**Battlestar Phoenix, Knights of Trope flagship, in geosynchronous orbit over Seattle Washington, 0112 hours military time, A day -2**

Ranger pulled himself to his feet as alarms screamed throughout the ship.

Thank god for the ships armor, he thought.

"Report," he ordered.

"Hull plating breached on deck three port side," Ensign Rumsten who had manned the damage control console answered him. "We have fires on deck's two and four also on the port side. Radiation levels normal."

"Sir," Weapons officer Lieutenant Ferson called. "Fire controls for the MAC guns is not responding."

Ranger cursed. The fires were bad enough but losing the MAC guns might come about to bite them in the ass.

"Order Hazard teams to douse those fires," he ordered. "Seal off all bulk heads around the hull breach, then shunt atmosphere from that section."

"Aye sir!" Rumsten replied.

"Have we lost transmissions to ground teams?" Ranger asked.

"Working on it sir," Ensign Groven replied struggling with the comm system. "EMP from the blast has crashed the network."

"Reboot," Ranger ordered. "I want us back up and running asap!"

"Where the hell did they get a nuke?" Marconni demanded.

Ranger shook his head grimly.

"I don't know," he admitted.

His head was pounding is different thoughts fought to be heard trying to get his attention. How did the Twitards get a nuke like that? What other weapons did they have? Was Joe alive or dead? How long would it be before he could get into contact with him? How many of his men had just been killed?

He leaned over the tactical table placing his hands on his face and felt a little blood over his eye brow.

"Son of a bitch," he snarled.

**Outside Lake Crescent, 3 miles from extraction point, 0112 hours military time, A day -2**

"Come on, move up!" Nikolai shouted.

"Yeah, it's real easy when you have an unconscious female soldier on your back to keep up!" Joe sarcastically scoffed back at.

"Quiet!" Polonsky whispered to both of them. They had reached a hill near a few farmhouses while en route to the LZ.

The big problem was: the farmhouses belonged to more Twitards. Heavily armed twitards. Like Lancer wielding Twitards with additional Thumper grenade launchers while wearing Russian bomb armor suits. But there was one good sign: radio equipment, perhaps sophisticated enough to contact Ranger without being heard by the enemy.

"That may be our ticket for help…" Joe murmured to the others. But how to get them was the question. Two guards were at the door. One was driving a truck with a mounted machine gun in the back, also handled by another guy. Another was playing cards with two friends while smoking cigarettes and drinking. But the most interesting was two of them interrogating a P.O.W. right next to where they were hiding, not far from the truck. In fact the P.O.W. had an interesting patch on his outfit, one that looked like a chibi bat. It was an irregular, someone they may just need.

"As may that…" Joe also murmured. He then whispered a plan to his teammates and then let loose the plan.

"Well it seems your invasion is going smoothly," The twitard said to the P.O.W., smacking him with his gun. "Now why don't you just quietly accept the role you're in?"

"… You know it's a shame that this side is wasting people like you to be here, as I could see better use." The P.O.W. replied only to be hit again.

"You say that again, werewolf, and I'll fucking blow your brains out!"

"Hey down there!" A voice called from the hill. "Can you give us a hand? And bring the prisoner!" The voice called back. The two twitards and prisoner stood confused and begin walked to the other side of the hill. Before the two twitards could notice anything, a few silent rounds struck their heads, and they fell to the ground, dropping their lancers.

"Well, I never thought I'd be saved by you, General Joe Palmer." The prisoner whispered.

"Nor did I, Corporal Ginei Morioka" Joe whispered back to the prisoner, still carrying Xion.

"You know each other?" Nikolai grunted.

"Yup, let's just say we've had our encounters." Joe replied. He then tore off the cuffs on Gin and handed him a lancer. "Now Nikolai, Polonsky use those outfits like we discussed."

After a quick change, Polonsky and Nikolai walked up into the occupied house, masks covering their faces. They acted as if they were taking Joe, Gin and Xion prisoner. They walked up to the guards

"We request entrance; we found two more prisoners, one in need of medical care." Polonsky said to the guards. The guards then moved to the side, letting the group in. Just as they walked in, Nikolai and Polonsky opened up their silenced weapons, taking out the card playing group off-guard. Joe then rushed to lay Xion down on a couch near some radio equipment.

"Alright, I'm gonna try to contact Ranger. Polonsky, Nikolai, get that truck and start spraying the place up! Gin, make sure we're secure and take out any twitards that may get to us!" Joe told them. Polonsky and Nikolai walked back to signal the truck, while Gin loaded up his Lancer.

"And why can't I be out there?" Gin sarcastically added.

"And risk losing the guy who helped me out? Nah, besides, You a bit tired, but still able to fight to extent. For that, I'll have you recognized, Sergeant Morioka." Joe teased, while he began tinkering with the radio. Just then a machine gun opened up and alarms went off. Nikolai and Polonsky had the truck.

"You can promote me when we get out of this situation." Gin replied stand alerting, making sure the area was secure.

"Attention! We have enemy soldiers on the base, repeat, enemy soldier-" Went off an announcer until being mowed down by machine gun, presumably used by Nikolai.

"Got it!... Battlestar Phoenix come in! Battlestar Phoenix, do you copy! This is Codename Texas requesting you to pick up immediately!" Joe began to call out, hoping that someone friendly would pick up.

Silence and static only answered him.

"Aww shit," Gin muttered.


	9. Chapter 9

**Ranger24: Sorry for the wait as usual folks.**

* * *

Chapter 9: Fire Rain.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Outside Lake Crescent, Surrounded structure, 3 miles from extraction point, 0118 hours military time, A day -2**

Joe felt his blood run cold as the radio remained silent. The sounds of gun fire from all around him fell upon deaf ears as he tried again to raise the Pheonix and their only escape.

"Pheonix this is Texas, we need evac! Please Respond!"

Once again there was silence.

A grenade went off near by and he was shaken from his concentration by Nikolai swearing violently in Russian. He snatched up his assualt rifle and moved to a window. Dozens of Twitards were advancing in the darkness barely visible. Further back others were setting up mortars, heavy machine guns, and anti Aircraft guns. He muttered a curse and opened up with his rifle dropping three Twitards before a stream of tracers forced him to duck back down into cover.

"We're in the shit man!" Polonsky called from another window as gun fire forced him down into cover.

"Where's that evac?" Gin demanded.

"I can't get a signal," Joe replied. "Either the ships comms is offline or we're being jammed.

An RPG tore through a wall and exploded knocking everyone to the ground. Momentarily deafened by the blast it took Joe a moment to realize Polonsky was screaming. Blood was running from his ears and a nasty piece of wood was sticking out of his lower calf muscle.

"Sonova," Joe growled hurrying over to the wounded man pulling out the first aid kit. He quickly applied a turnaquet to stop the bleeding. There was to much of a risk of infection if the wood splintered as he removed it so he was forced to merely clean the wound and apply antispetic.

"Running low on ammo!" Gin called.

"Dey have breached da southern entrance," Nikolia called.

"Pull back to the radio room!" Joe ordered. "If you've got claymores use them!"

Nikolai thundered in moments later taking up Polonsky's former post as Joe dragged Polonsky over to join Xion. He took up position next to the door as he heard a claymore explode followed by a loud cry of agony. He switched to his AA-12 and then almost as an after thought patched himself into the radio one last time.

"Ranger, get something down here to support us or I swear to god I will come back as a ghost and murder you."

Another Claymore went off followed by the thud of Mortars stricking the building blowing apart the upper floors. The sound of heavy feet came down the hall and Joe took a deep breath. Then he moved into the door way and opened up full auto.

**Battlestar Pheonix, Knights of Trope flagship, in geosyncronis orbit over Seattle Washington, 0121 hours military time, A day -2.**

Feverish activity filled the bridge as the crew struggled to bring things back online. Ranger stood alone by the tactical table staring at the last known locaion of Joe and his squad. He hated it. He hated being so helpless, it chaffed at every part of him. He wanted to be down there, fighting with Joe and the others, kicking ass and taking heads. Instead he was stuck in the CIC waiting for comms to be brought back online.

"Sir," Marcooni suddenly said drawing his attention from his thoughts. He hurried over to young officer by the communications console.

"What?"

"I'm getting something through the static," Marcooni replied. He offered Ranger the head set and he took it.

In the midst of the static he heard Joe's voice garbled by gunfire, explosions, and white noise.

_"Ranger, get *Static* down here to support *Static* swear to god I will *Static* as a ghost and murder you."_

Ranger felt his hand drop down to the hilt of his sword.

"Can we focus in on that signal?" He asked.

"I can get us with in five miles," Marcooni replied.

"Not good enough," Ranger muttered. "They'll be corpses by the time we get a clear signal from up here."

"What do we do sir?" Marcooni asked.

Ranger turned to the rest of the CIC.

"XO!" He called.

A young man in his late twenties stood up. He was dressed in a grey deck uniform had red hair and green eyes. Lawrence "Lars" Kirkpatrick, a man who owed Ranger a few favors and had experince running ships.

"Sir," he reported.

"Get us in Geosynchronus orbit with the transmission Ensign Marcooni has found," he ordered. "After I launch bring the ship broadside and bring the spine guns to bear."

"After you launch?" Lars asked raising an eye brow.

"The General asked for me specifically," Ranger replied. "You have the ship."

"Aye sir."

With that Ranger swept out of the bridge checking the holster on his trusty M6C Magnum Luna. He had left Sol in his cabin and would have to make do with just his pistol and old Longsword Rosemount. He made his way down to the Drop pod bay normally reserved for the Ships drop units. He stripped off his deck uniform and shoes and switched into his more effective boots, his regular garments, and then pulled out a special gift from Tal.

A Beskar'gam Armor Chestplate. He slipped into the armor noting the light weight and freedom of motion it granted him. He threw his cloak on over it all and stepped into one of the waiting pods.

He fastened himself in as the pod door closed over him, encasing him in a titanium egg.

_"Over drop point in five seconds sir,"_ Lars called over the radio.

"Acknowledged," Ranger replied. "How much have you narrowed it down to?"

_"Four square miles."_

"Lovely," he muttered. "When I hit groundside wait two minutes then commence fire upon my drop pod."

"_Sir-"_

"I'll be clear," he assured his XO. "Ready to launch."

_"Launching in five..."_

**Outside Lake Crescent, Surrounded structure, 3 miles from extraction point, 0123 hours military time, A day -2**

Joe slamed the butt plate of his AA-12 repeatedly into the head of the nearest Twitard, ignoring the blood leaking from his nose. His glasses had fallen on the floor and broken in the confusion of the melee. He had maybe half a mag left in his AA-12 and a full mag on his assault rifle to spare.

As he bludgened the Twitard to death he heard the shreik of a chain saw cutting through bone but could only in passing process that Gin was being forced into melee combat. Nikolai was spewing out Russian curses as he fired full auto trying to keep the Twitards out. Polonsky was propped up beside Xion firing his side arm at any target that presented itself to him. All the while mortar fire tore the building apart, it wouldn't belong now until their cover was gone.

Finished with his Twitard he turned back to the door just as three more came charging in with a bayonets ready. He emptied the last of his shot gun shells into them, killing them quickly. Slinging his empty weapon he brought up his assault rifle as a flash bang rolled into view. He ducked down behind the door frame to avoid the flash and the bang was thankfully muted by the door frame to within tolerable levels. He swung back into the door frame as three more Twitards entered and he shot each one with precise three round bursts to the head. He had maybe half a mag left now.

There came another bang as Nikolai tossed out a spike grenade no doubt killing several more Twitards.

"Just aboot out of ammo comerade," he called.

"Same-," Gin started before a Twitard of indeterminable gender stuck its head through the window he was guarding. Chainsaw roaring he beheaded the hermaphrodite in a spray of blood and bone fragments. "Here."

"Go hand to hand if you have to," Joe called downing another Twitard with a three round burst.

"Da da!" Nikolai replied emptying the last of his ammo into the incoming Twitards. Weapon spent he switched out for a knife and a farming sickle of all things. "No one shall defeat Nikolai!"

Another four Twitards made for the door. Joe droped one, then two, then three, before his gun clicked empty. The Twitard tackled him knocking him to the ground and sending his rifle spiraling away. They trashed on the floor the Twitard trying to get its hands around his throat. Joe drew out his bowie knife and plunged it three time in rapid succession into his attacker. When the corpse stopped moving he shoved it off him just in time for three more to charge in.

He stabbed one in the throat with his knife, ducked a bayonet thrust from the second and strike from the third. He drew out his pistol a 44. Magnum and fired it at point blank. Brains and gore splashed across the walls as they dropped.

Then there came a crash as a section of the ceiling caved in on them. The three coughed through the smoke and soot trying to hold their positions in the midst of the confusion.

"One more hit and we're dead!" Gin called.

Ducking over to the window Joe tried to see through the darkness and find the mortar team. Without his glasses and in the darkness however he was helpless.

Then something bright and firey falling from the sky caught his eye. It was falling right down amidst the Twitards. With a bang the pod landed. The door exploded away from the pod and Ranger leapt forth pistol blazing. In three seconds he dropped four Twitards with has hand gun and then killed two more with his sword.

"The cavalries arrived people!" Joe called.

"Boot fucking time," Nikolai replied beheading a Twitard.

Joe downed another two with his pistol as Ranger hacked his way through the Twitards. The mortars stopped falling implying that Ranger had successfully killed the mortar teams. He carved his way towards the ruined building shooting, slashing a stabbing. Bullets bounced off his armor barely slowing him at all.

Then within a minute of dropping in Ranger jumped in through a window.

"What I miss," he asked?

"When I said support I didn't expect you," Joe replied blowing the head off another Twitard.

They ducked down to reload their pistols.

"You get my message?" Joe asked.

"Barely," Ranger admitted. "We got a lot to talk about when we get back to base."

"I hope dat includes wodka," Nikolai tossed in, plunging his blades into another Twitard.

"How long until evac?" Joe asked. "We've got wounded."

"About two minutes tops." Ranger replied.

"We'll be dead by then," Gin snapped.

"Pleasure to see you to," Ranger said. "Actually we'll be just fine."

The two of them rose up and opened up with their pistols picking off Twitards.

"How so?" Joe asked.

"Three." Ranger said.

"Vhat?" Nikolai asked.

"Two."

"Why are you counting down?" Joe asked.

"One."

Then there was a massive roar of high powered explosives! They were thrown to the ground by the shockwave as fire roared outside.

"Pheonix's main guns," Ranger shouted over the explosions. "Thought that would take care of the problem."

"Hot damn," Joe growled under his breath as shells fell like the wrath of god.

The bombardment continued for a whole thrity seconds until at last the area fell silent. Everyone who could still walk rose to their feet. Everything around the ruins was a mass of craters and fires, nothing alive could be seen around them.

"Not bad," Gin muttered.

"I aim to please," Ranger replied.

* * *

**Ranger24: Finally finished! The time is come! Seattle awaits!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Ranger24: I normally don't like updating two chapters for the same story in a row unless I'm really focusing on it but what the heck here it is folks.**

* * *

Chapter 10: Calm before the Storm

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Battlestar Phoenix**, **Knights of Trope flagship, in geosynchronous orbit over Seattle Washington, 1042 hours military time, A day -2**

Joe's muscle still ached as he sat in on of the comfortable leather arm chairs in the ships forward observation lounge. The lounge was a lot like a rewards members club at an airport. It had all the comforts one could want, comfortable chairs, full 1 G gravity, a great view, classy music, a minibar, and private communications link ups. The lounge doubled as the officers club aboard ship meaning you had to have an officers commission to enter, unless you were invited in.

The lounge's massive windows were located just a deck and some armor plating above the MAC guns. The windows thus where made of complex plasma glass reinforced to withstand the potential recoil. As a structural weakness the windows were equipped with shutters which would be lowered during combat. The Officers club would then be evacuated and depressurized.

After the hectic mission to lake crescent he desperately needed this break. Polonsky was still in medbay and the docs had suggested they might have to amputate his leg. Nikolai was no doubt getting drunk in the ships cantina and Ginei had joined him to hit on some of the entertainer. Xion worried him the most however.

According to Chief Medical Officer Zal'nak Xion had a sever concussion, in addition to existing injuries from her imprisonment. The Troll Doctor had reduced the swelling and dealt with the worst of her injuries but she had yet to awaken meaning they still had no idea of what she had found out.

"Contemplating your navel?" Ranger asked making him look away from the Earth.

"Funny," he replied dryly.

"Well I am afraid break times over," Ranger said motioning for him to get up. "The Powers that be want a full report on the situation."

Joe shook his head in annoyance.

"We get nuke and drone attacks and now they want a report?" He asked.

"Thats poloticians for you," Ranger replied. "Come on."

They made their way out of the lounge up to the communications deck. They entered a secure briefing room, the door to which was flanked by two fully armed and equipped Knights who saluted as they passed.

Inside it was dark and empty except for a long conference table with a few projectors attached to it. Ranger motioned for him to take a seat on the right while Ranger took his place at the head of the table. Ranger hit a single key on the board before him.

"Double D," Ranger said. "Open the channel."

"Aye Sir," Edd replied.

The room became even darker as the projectors hummed to life.

"Connecting to Mr. Campbell, Princess Tepes, Commander Ordo, and Mr. Wyern," Edd reported.

"We need to get an AI," Joe muttered.

"I heard that sir," Edd said dryly.

"No offense meant," Joe apologized.

"Locking down secure connection," Edd said.

The projectors burst to life projecting four figures in four of the other chairs. They took the forms of Campbell, Tal, and two others. The first was a young girl, probably no older than 10 with blonde hair and red eyes. She was dressed in a black Victorian style dress with a matching choker. The second was an old man, looking well over sixty years old with greying hair and a short beard that was well kept. He was dressed in a grey suit and oddly enough a short battered old cloak.

"Tal, Princess, Master. Thank you for responding to my request for a meeting on such short notice," Ranger greeted.

"This had better be worth it boy," the old man growled.

Joe knew instantly just who he was dealing with. Alan Wyren, CEO and majority share holder in the Wyren Conglomerate a trillion dollar company that was a major backer to the Knights of Trope. He also happened to be one of the last Twilight Warriors and one of the most powerful, definitely stronger than Ranger.

"I'm always willing to make time," the young girl said ignoring the old man. "This little war of yours is of great concern to the Bund."

And thus the girl's identity was revealed to Joe. Princess Mina Tepes, ruler of the Vampire Race and a direct descendant of Vlad Tepes. A wealthy woman who had enough money to pay off the national debt of industrialized nations like Japan in a single payment and still have trillions left over.

"Allow me to introduce General Joe Palmer," Ranger said motioning Joe to the two.

"Its a pleasure," Joe said politely.

Mina gave him a polite nod while Wyren sized him up.

"You look worth something," he commented. "Wish you'd been a Twilight warrior rather than the boy."

Mina gave a small laugh as did Tal. Ranger kept a straight face.

"We don't all hit the super power lottery jack pot sir," Joe replied.

"True enough," Wyren muttered.

"Moving on," Campbell said clearing his throat. "The UN has its concerns which need to be addressed."

Ranger nodded.

"Of course," he said. "Around 0101 hours military time this morning Twitard forces launched an orbit capable missile barrage, one of which was a low yield thermo nuclear missile. The missile caused modest damage to the _Phoenix _and downed communications."

Campbell leaned forward in his chair.

"We also were attacked hours before that by a full company of Russian T-72 Main Battle Tanks at Forks we lost one hundred and forty-seven men before we could repel them," Ranger continued. "Further more, at the same time as the attack on the _Phoenix_ a Predator drone intercepted General Palmer here, and nearly killing his whole squad."

"Where are they getting that kind of hardware from?" Campbell asked.

"We don't know," Ranger admitted. "Its obvious they didn't get these from the Washington State National Guard or Air Guard. This suggests they have some significant backer."

"Obvious enough," Mina said dismissively. "Buying from the black Market could get them the tanks, those things are a dime a dozen."

"That's not all," Tal suddenly said. "We found a lot of heavy weapons at their dockyard in the islands. I'm talking SAM's, anti tank weapons, assault rifles, body armor, even an AT-TE."

"You found what?" Ranger said alarmed.

"An old Republic AT-TE," Tal explained.

"I know what an AT-TE is," Ranger snapped.

"I didn't," Joe admitted.

"Why didn't you tell me this before now?" Ranger demanded.

"We only just unpacked it," Tal answered. "Its in full working order, practically fresh of the assembly line. This wasn't bought off the black market."

"So is the Empire backing the Twitards?" Mina asked.

"Not likely," Tal replied. "They're busy fighting the Rebel Alliance. No time for supporting a proxy war."

"Then who gave it to them?" Wyern asked.

"No idea," Tal replied. "The Empire controls all known factories that produce AT-TE's. Most of those have been converted to build newer vehicles for the Empire."

"So we've got nothing other than a lot of high tech weapons with no idea how the enemy got them," Ranger concluded.

"Indeed," Tal replied.

"This is going to be a hell of a debate," Campbell muttered.

"Are only option is to go forwards with the assault on Seattle," Ranger said punching up a map of the area surrounding Seattle. Several markers appeared to its immediate east. "The Twitards have fortified the city with a barricade wall and anti air defenses. I have several artillery units setting up on the cities outskirts to begin bombardment. Air units have been hammering the enemy since the fighting began."

"Casualties?" Mina asked.

"Twelve craft lost to hostile ground fire and three to enemy fighters," Ranger answered. "The enemy has fielded F-15C's looted from the Air Guard. Their pilots are pretty bad but they chase off our gunships pretty quick. Our Air forces will be dealing with them this afternoon."

"And your over all invasion plan?" Campbell asked.

Ranger hit another button and several unit markers appeared to the north and south of the city, cutting the main roads.

"Are ground forces are taking up positions to impose a siege on the city and lock it down," he reported before clicking again. Several arrow heads moved towards the city. "Special forces will infiltrate the city, soften up enemy defenses and secure civilian hostages for evacuation two hours prior to the attack."

He clicked again and the siege units began advancing.

"Our ground troops, under the command of General Palmer, will advance on the city from the north and south. They will breach the enemy defenses and relieve the special forces for ex-filtration." Ranger continued before clicking again. A dotted line came in through bay and hit the Docks. "Tal's forces will hit the docks and cut off the enemies final escape route. From their we go house to house if we have to until we find Cullen."

"What about possible further missile attacks?" Wyren asked.

"The Battlestars _Revan _and_ Kamina _will be joining us with in a few hours and we'll form a proper battle group," Ranger explained. "Cullen won't escape by orbit."

Silence filled the confrence room as they sat taking it all in. Campbell was the first to speak.

"Since the Twitards have deployed nuclear ordinance then you officially have permission to utilize whatever force you dem necessary barring Weapons of Mass Destruction to defeat them and bring Cullen to justice." He stated grimly.

"I understand Mr. Campbell," Ranger replied with a nod.

"If this is everything then I believe we are done here," Wyren said straightening his collar. "Don't get yourself killed boy or I'll murder you."

With a flicker he vanished.

"I trust you will bring Cullen down Ranger," Mina said. "Otherwise I will be forced to take direct action."

"As you will Princess," Ranger said with another nod.

With that she vanished as well. Campbell soon followed her.

Now it was just the Knights of Trope in the room.

"Any other bits of contraband you found Tal?" Ranger asked.

"Nothing I didn't expect to find," Tal replied. "Don't you two worry, those Twitards won't know what hit them."

"Good luck man," Joe said.

"We'll all need it," Tal replied before vanishing.

Now it was just Ranger and Joe sitting alone in the dark conference room. The Twilight Warrior gave a yawn and leaned back in his chair.

"Long day?" Joe asked.

"Long week," Ranger replied. "Feels like this wars been going on for years. Its barely even been a week."

"I know what you mean man," Joe said. "I know what you mean."


	11. Chapter 11

**Ranger24: And here's the latest chapter. Planning to be done with this by chapter twenty folks. Enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter 11: High Impact.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Knight of Trope Airbase Alpha, Knight of Trope 14th Air Group, Viper Intercept Squadron 4, Flight Lieutenant Arica Dawnsky Call sign: "Pepper", 1218 hours military time, A day -2**

Arica Dawnsky still felt a little uncomfortable in her brand new flight suit. It was form fitting mostly, blue-grey in color, with a lock down collar at her neck for her helmet. As a Blood Elf she had not expected to be flying fighter craft but here she was, a Viper Jock sitting in the ready room with the rest of her squadron waiting for the Squadron leader to address them.

The VIS 4 as they were labelled had yet to fly against the Twitards in battle but that seemed to be about to change. Most had only just earned their wings a few days before hand and had only flown for real for a few hours. They would have to depend on their training, their machines, and the few veteran pilots among them to see them through.

Captain Varas'loko call sign: "Loco", entered at that moment. The Sangheili fighter pilot was veteran of several missions most not with the Knights of Trope. It was surprising to see one as a Viper pilot as most tended to fly Type-26Banshee's or Seraph fighters. With confident strides he approach the podium at the head of the ready room and everyone snapped to attention in their seats.

"Good afternoon," he rumbled.

"Good afternoon sir," they all said as one.

He nodded and shuffled a few papers on the podium.

"Today," he began, "you shall truly earn your wings as hunters of the sky. We will be escorting a bomber flight hitting Seattle."

He found what he was looking for and then hit a button on the podium. The ready room darkened as a projector came on. A Map of Seattle's general area appeared on the screen. Varas'loko used laser pointer to mark out their flight path.

"Our true objective however is to engage and destroy enemy air support in the area," he stated. "So long as the enemy can field significant fighter forces the ground troops cannot safely advance without unacceptable casualties. That is why we are covering the simultaneous attack on the Seattle-Tacoma International Air Port where the enemy is based."

He pressed another button to show an F-15C Fighter Plane.

"This is what the enemy is fielding," he stated. "The F-15 has a top speed of Mach 2.8, various long range and short range missiles, and a 20mm Gatling gun. The F-15 has never been shot down in air to air combat." His mandibles moved into what Arica took to be a grin. "We will be the ones to break that perfect record."

Several pilots whispered to each other quietly.

"Our Viper Mark VII's," the captain said silencing them. "Has a top speed in atmosphere of Mach 4, carries three 30mm cannons, multiple long range and short range missiles, and is built for both atmospheric and Space Combat. Can anyone see some weakness we can exploit?"

"We're faster and better armed," one of the other pilots called.

"True," Varas agreed. "However we cannot maneuver as easily in atmospheric combat as we do in space due to our shorter wing span." He turned the lights back on. "Our true advantage is that we are trained pilots. They have been given the users manual and told to fly their planes. Rely on your training and tactics, and we shall prevail this day."

"Sir," Flight Lieutenant Warren Victors call sign: "Axe Man" and Arica's wing-man said. "How many enemies are we anticipating?"

"No more than thirty," Varas replied. "They only captured one squadron."

Warren nodded.

"We take off in ten minutes people," Varas stated. "Operation to commence a 1300 hours. Dismissed and good hunting."

All to quickly it seemed Arica was climbing into the cockpit of her Viper. She put on her helmet and felt the seal clamp down and her oxygen systems take over. The cockpit screen was sealed around her enclosing her in her bird. She powered on her engines and went through her preflight checks, her stomach felt like she was about to puke from nerves.

"Comm check!" Varas ordered.

"Rocket ready."

"Polo ready."

"Stallion ready."

"Cantina ready."

"Yoddler ready."

"Super Star ready."

"Hack Saw ready."

"Burger ready."

"Whiskers ready."

"Big Red ready."

"Eye Ball ready."

"Ripper ready."

"Rainbow ready."

"Axe Man ready."

"Pepper ready," she said taking a deep breath of purified air, she was Pepper now and would be until she touched down.

"Marshall ready."

"Hot Rod ready."

"School Bus ready."

"Indigo ready."

"Nacho ready."

"Composer ready."

And that was everyone, all twenty-two of them. Going out face the enemy.

"Commence take off." Varas, now Loco ordered.

One by one the Viper's ahead of her rolled down the run way and lifted off into the air. Sooner than she would have liked it was her turn. She eased the throttle forward, lifted nose up into the air, and was quickly climbing into the air. She kept climbing until she fell into formation with the rest of the squadron, adjusted her position when she hit a pocket of turbulence, and then released a breath she hadn't even known she had been holding in.

The flight to Seattle was passing much faster that she had hopped and within Ten minutes they were within visual range of the city, waiting for the bombers. Once more it was not long until they saw they approach of their charges.

Coming up from the south were two squadrons of AV-14 Hornet Gunships, a squadron of Type-26 Banshee's, and bringing up the rear twelve AH/G-24 Banshee stealth bombers. Then behind then and high were a dozen of the Knights of Tropes own custom aircraft, the heavily armed the MV-03 Dragonfire Gunship. Sixty aircraft for them to protect on their attack run on the Air port.

"Heavy's located," Loco stated. "All pilots form up and cover them, eyes open."

The Viper's took position around and about the bombers, eyes scanning the horizon for enemy contacts. Anxiety held Pepper in a vice grip as the flew farther north with every second. She wanted to scream but her throat was to dry. They were nearly to the target.

Then she saw them.

Tearing across the sky in a haphazard formation were thirty F-15C fighter jets screaming towards them. They had been painted black with red Apples on their wings.

"Bandits inbound," Axeman reported.

"Acknowledged," Loco responded. "Form up in attack formation. Move to engage with me."

The Vipers peeled away from the heavy attack craft barreling towards the approaching enemy fighters.

"Arm missiles," Loco ordered.

Almost on autopilot Pepper armed her missiles. They were rapidly closing with the enemy. Within a matter of seconds she had tone. At the same time her missile lock alert warned her that one or more of the enemy had locked onto her.

"Fire and break on my mark!" Loco barked.

The F-15's opened up with their missiles, screaming bolts of death hurtling towards them.

"Mark!"

Pepper fired as did the rest of her squadron before peeling off breaking apart by wing men. Her missile alert was screaming in her ear as she dove down towards the ground, her heart seeming to have stopped her breath painful in her lungs. She jerked back on the stick nearly forcing the Viper into a stall but the missile meant for her shot clean past her. She looked up to see a dozen F-15's tumbling out of the air in flaming wreckage while two of the Vipers joined them. She had survived the first shots.

Then the F-15's rushed the Vipers, heedless of their looses, guns blazing. Pepper quickly found one bandit coming straight for her! Axeman was screaming in her ear! Bullets rippled past her cockpit.

She pulled the trigger.

A triple stream of 30mm shells tore away from her craft and ripped into her opponent. The F-15 broke apart in seconds, flaming wreckage hurtling towards her! Purely on instinct she banked out of the way.

Her heart pounding in her chest she turned and watched her stricken foe crash onto a street below. Exhilaration and adrenaline poured into her. The flaming wreckage skipped on the street twice before erupting into a massive fire ball of black and red. She wanted it. She needed it.

Turning her attention back to the raging dog fight she heard Axeman screaming at her for support. An F-15 was right on his tail and chewing him up. She brought her Viper about and spotted her hapless wing man struggling to rid himself of his attack. She lined up the shot and in a single burst tore the plane in half. She was the huntress and the sky was now her hunting ground.

**Seattle-Tacoma International Air Port, 1325 hours, A day -2, Lance Corporal Van Compton, 1st Vanguard Regiment, 2 Battalion, E Company, Second Platoon.**

"Move up people, go!" Sergeant Garlon shouted hosing down an exposed a retreating Twitard as the 1st Vanguard supported by Air and armored units tore into the defenses around the Airport. Without proper air cover the Twitard ground defenses were crumbling. The attack had only begun less than five minutes before hand but the Knights of Trope were already less than a hundred yards form the Control tower. The Armor and mechanized infantry would take the terminal while the infantry handled the runway and control tower. Against the now veteran warriors of the 1st Vanguard the Twitards were helpless.

Still it didn't hurt that some new toys were on the field for the Knights of Trope. Squads of armed and armored Mages were advancing with them, healing the wounded, sending bolts of fire at bunkers and machine gun nests. Then there were the psychos.

"I WILL RIP YOUR SOUL IN HALF!" One roared as his squad used their jump packs to land right in the middle of a Twitard trench. Less than a second later a screaming Twitard was thrown out of the trench with an arm and half of his face missing added to being on fire. The Champions, the new heavy melee shock infantry were absolutely insane. They waved off rifles for close range weapons and used jump packs to close the distance with enemy targets. Brutally effective for clearing an enemy position, but they still scared the crap out of him.

A grenade going off not ten feet from him broke Compton from his observations. They were nearing the last trench line before the fence that surrounded the runway. Westwood dove into fox hole, shoving a corpse aside to make room and fired at one of the machine gun nests defending the trench. Compton did like wise and within seconds the gun fell silent.

"Compared to Forks this a cake walk Sarge," Westwood hollered to Garlon who was busy hacking to death the Twitard who had still been occupying the fox hole headed chosen.

"They're losing the will to fight," Garlon replied, burying his axe into the Twitards skull. "It won't be long now until..."

There was roar over heard as a flaming F-15 came crashing down, ripping a massive hole right through the Twitards trench line and through the fence. It exploded a moment later as its killer roared past them.

"Tell those fly boys to watch where their droppin their kills!" Westwood shouted.

**Seattle-Tacoma International Air Port, Air Combat zone, Knight of Trope 14th Air Group, Viper Intercept Squadron 4, Flight Lieutenant Arica Dawnsky Call sign: "Pepper", 1329 hours, A day -2.**

Pepper smirked as she brought her Viper about to see the flaming wreckage of her most recent kill blow a gaping hole in the ground defenses. She tossed a one handed salute to the ground pounders as she flew out of range of anti air fire. She hurtled back into the sky ignoring Axeman's warnings about her overly aggressive tactics. She was on her fourth kill of the day. Some of the others in her squadron had yet to down a single hostile.

As she climbed to gain a better view she spotted something in the distance. Two dozen silver somethings were coming towards the raging dog fight. She frowned and hit her com.

"Loco, this is Pepper," she reported. "We've got Bogey's coming in from North West. Twenty four marks."

"Acknowledged Pepper," Loco replied. "I've heard nothing about reinforcements or anything. Assume..."

Then the targets drew near enough for Pepper to make them out. MiG-21's, all with the red apple.

"Loco, the bogey's are bandits!" She shouted. "MiGs!"

"Where the hell did they launch from!" Axeman demanded.

"Wort!" Loco snarled. "Pepper, Axeman, Rocket, Pollo, Stallion! You're with me! We're giving them a warm reception!"

There was a resounding acknowledged as they tore off to engage the new comers. MiG-21's were an older generation of aircraft but still a threat. Able to reach Mach 2 they could dance with the Vipers but they weren't as advanced or well armed.

Missiles quickly streamed to meet them from the approaching MiG's which they deftly evaded before launching a retaliatory volley of their own. Six MiG's tumbled out of the sky before the two sides clashed. Pepper knew she had just broken the Ace threshold but didn't have time to celebrate. Out Numbered three to one, the Vipers were having to use their higher speed to try and avoid being dragged into prolonged close quarters shooting matches with the MiG's Pepper got one in her sights for all of a second and took the shot, watching the plane erupt into flames.

As she did so however, Stallion screamed as his Viper was torn in half by enemy fire. Pepper hoped he could eject in time but could not take her focus away from the battle. Polo was on his own now and had five MiG's tearing at him from multiple directions. Pepper and Axeman dove into this swarm, guns blazing. She down two while Axeman got a third allowing Polo to down a fourth. Quickly enough however five more came into the fray making this singular dog fight a three on six affair. A round hit Pepper's left wing nearly tearing it off! She fought to regain control, successfully leveled off and then downed the shooter for his trouble.

Then out of almost nowhere, Loco came screaming in followed by Rocket, guns blazing through four MiG's in a single pass. Within less than a minute over half the MiG's had been destroyed A quick check confirmed only three hostile MiG's left in the air along with two F-15's. She wanted one more before calling it a day.

As if sensing her desire one of the MiG's came hurtling at her guns blazing. She rolled away from his fire and retaliated. To her surprise the MiG deftly evaded and then sent a stream of fire at Axeman. She tried to cry out a warning but it was to late. Axeman's engines were torn apart.

He barely had time to scream before his plane exploded in a fire ball of molten metal.

Anger gripped Pepper as she opened the throttle and closed with her wing-mans killer. The pilot saw her coming and banked into her firing. A round struck her nose and a status read out reported damage to her center cannon. She powered it off before banking into his turn. They were belly to belly for a split second before tearing away from each other. She brought her Viper about and saw him retreating towards Seattle.

"Get back here you bastard!" She snarled opening the throttle to pursue. She armed her missiles and fired off a shot just as he neared the skyscrapers, going low and close. Then he banked and her missile struck a building tearing out two whole floors in a blast of flames.

"Pepper break off!" Loco barked.

"Sir that bastard killed my wing-man!" She snapped.

"And you just took out half an office building!" He shot back. "All hostiles have either been destroyed or have retreated. The Air port is secure. We are returning to base."

"But!"

"Now Flight Lieutenant!"

Cursing under her breath, Pepper broke of pursuit. She turned away from the city and flew back to rejoin her depleted squadron, swearing to herself that she would shot that murderous bastard down.

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**Ranger24: Air combat I would have to say is both hard and fun to write folks. Read and review!**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Silence before Storm

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Two miles south of Seattle, Knights of Trope Staging area Fox, 1925 hours, A day -1, Lance Corporal Van Compton, 1st Vanguard Regiment, 2 Battalion, E Company, Second Platoon.**

Night was growing heavy on the warriors of the Knights of Trope. The soldiers of the 1st Vanguard had not seen action all day taking the time to rest up. They knew it would be their last night of good sleep in a while, for tomorrow it would begin. At dawn they would cross the no mans land and assault Seattle.

Still not a single man had turned in yet, no one could sleep. The thought of what came with the dawn made many of them want the night to never end. Thus they were throwing a big old party.

The roar of bass guitar and fierce lyrics of a band filled the air as the Knights of Trope's got drunk, got inked, and in a few cases likely got laid.

Compton himself was on his second beer of the evening banging his head along to the music of the Distrubed cover band that was playing for them. He didn't see any of his friends from second platoon but for the moment he didn't care. He just wanted the fear, the anxiety, the stress, all of it gone, just for a while.

The night seemed to be moving along however like a blur as he suddenly found himself dancing with a pretty blonde private from another regiment. He didn't even no her name or how this had started but he didn't care. He didn't want it to stop, he didn't want it to end.

Because when it did the screaming would start again.

**Two miles south of Seattle, Knights of Trope Staging area X-Ray, 1945 hours, A day -1, Major Dyonia Furywind, Farstriders Battalion.**

Dyonia was no strange to the brief period of time before a battle. She had only been a girl when the Scourge attack had devastated Silvermoon. She remembered the fear and terror that had gripped the city that night as people did what ever they could to prepare for the coming day of battle.

In the end it hadn't been enough. The Scourge has sacked Silvermoon and she had lost her parents.

Now however she was a grown woman, who could defend herself and wouldn't hesitate to kill. Wich made it all the more annoying that her elder brothers had come to see her off as she prepared her gear.

Colonel Randwin Furywind and Major Raenar Furywind, her elder brothers and commanders of the 9th Light armored regiment. All three shared the same black hair but differences began from there. Randwin was well built from his years of a Paladin training while Raenar and Dyonia were slimmer. Raenar had the ice blue eyes of a Death Knight while Randwin and Dyonia had the fel green of Sin'dorei. Raenar skin was darker from the dark energies he commanded, Randwin was tanned from his many journeys, while Dyonia was pale having been sickly before the restoration of the Sunwell.

Now as she slid her poisoned daggers into their sheathes she wished the two would just leave her in peace.

"Remember street fighting isn't the same as an open battlefield," Randwin droned. "You've got to stay alert, the enemy can come at you from anywhere."

"If someone gets shot don't drop everything to save them," Raenar added. "You'll just make yourself a target."

"Watch of IED's," Randwin said. "They may suck at making them but that doesn't mean a few aren't total duds."

"Don't start a fight if you can avoid it."

"Will you both shut up already?" She snapped picking up her custom crossbow. "I can handle myself damn it."

She pushed past them heading for the waiting UH-144 Falcon that would carry her battalion most of the way to the city. The Farstriders were going in first to take out anti air defenses and secure civilian hostages held inside the city. Her Battalion of two hundred and fifty would be over stretched but Ranger had trained them to handle the most dangerous of missions and to face impossible odds.

Much to her annoyance her two brothers continued to follow her.

"Maybe so," Randwin said. "But you've never lead troops into battle."

"And you have?" Dyonia tossed over her shoulder.

"In fact we both have," Raenar replied darkly. "As you would do well to remember."

"This is a whole different kind of war to what you two are used to," Dyonia replied. "So go back to your bikes and wait for your turn."

Silence fell between at this.

Randwin bowed his head in respect.

"Ancestors guide and protect you sister," and with that he turned away.

Raenar sighed watching his elder brother walk away.

"You do know we only have your best interests at heart?" He said.

"And that's what gets on my nerves," Dyonia replied. "I'm not some little girl with scabbed knees crying for mother."

"Little sisters are always little girls with scabbed knees to older brothers," Raenar said. "Whatever happens in their Dyonia, never forget that we still care for you."

"I appreciate the thought," Dyonia replied with a roll of her eyes. "Ancestors protect you brother."

"You as well little sister," Raenar answered before walking away.

Still annoyed with her siblings she hardly noticed the short walk to the waiting Falcon's and ignored Private Wilson's offered hand to help her aboard. She took her seat and ordered them into the air.

The Falcon rose up silently joined by several others of a similar stealth design.

In mere minutes they were almost gliding over the various encampments of the Knights of Trope. Dyonia gazed down upon them wondering just how many of those below her would live to see another nightfall.

**Battlestar Phoenix, Knights of Trope flagship, in geosynchronous orbit over Seattle Washington, 2002 hours military time, A day -1. **

Ranger walked the nearly empty hanger deck of the Phoenix. A few maintenance personal were still on hand working on the ships air compliment. Most of the ships ground attack aircraft had been sent ground side already leaving only their orbit devoted aircraft present.

Unease filled from head to toe. In a matter of hours that battle would begin and here he was sitting aboard a massive warship with jack shit to do. Joe had already gone to the front lines and was probably getting his troops ready for the assault. Tal was less then two days out from Seattle now.

He sat himself down beside one of the Knights of Tropes few Sabre Fighters, purchased at an insane price from the military.

His eyes turned to the Valkyries that were sitting idly in there alcoves. Many had sections of plating removed to expose the complex workings beneath.

On a spur of the moment decision he climbed into the cockpit of one, settling back against its seat. He barely fit due to his height, and that was lowering the seat down as much as possible and ducking a little. He ran his fingers over the instrument panel silently lost in thought. It was a maze of complex read outs and indicators. Various controls were present that handled the Variable fighter in all of its modes.

The Knights of Trope engineers had worked hard to bring these old machines back up to fighting shape. They had dubbed the planes, VF-1 Valkyrie Super S's, though there was little about them that most modern pilots would call super at first glance. The engines had to be switched out for the most modern ones that could work on the older energy cores. Some had suggested tearing the old cores out and replacing them but the Knights of Trope didn't have any to spare. The Weapons had to be updated, the flight computers were dinosaurs, almost everything about these old planes had to be upgraded, replaced, or altered.

Still Ranger had a gut feeling they would come in handy, even if they weren't yet ready to go into battle. The Techs had rigged the Super S's with a handy little trick that might even the odds against more modern mechs. A boosters system dubbed the Ragnarok Drive. It took a while to charge but when it activated the Valkyries performance improved 350%. A critical edge that might swing a battle in their favor. The Ragnarok Drive however was never built for the Valkyrie's older core and would cause pretty nasty damage to the cores in the long term.

Ranger prayed they wouldn't have to use the Ragnarok drives but somewhere in his gut he knew that they would.

No plan survived contact with the enemy.


	13. Chapter 13

**Ranger24: After a little wait here's a new chapter. Enjoy folks.**

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Chapter 13: The Storm

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Two miles south of Seattle, Knights of Trope Staging area Fox, 625 hours, A day, Lance Corporal Van Compton, 1st Vanguard Regiment, 2 Battalion, E Company, Second Platoon.**

Dawn had only just broke but the Knights of Trope were already on the move. Squads were boarding their H-19 Kodo APC's, Warthogs, and Mako's. Tanks were rumbling to life and assuming positions to protect the transports. Compton and the Knights of second platoon were already in their assigned transport.

Nobody was talking now, most were afraid to open their mouths for fear of losing their nerve. Only the Sergeant seemed to be calm, he waited by the breaching ramp with his lancer at the ready. He looked at peace with himself, as though this was just another day at the office, Compton wished he had the Sergeant's confidence.

"Room for three more?"

Compton turned to boarding hatch surprised. Standing at the hatch was General Palmer flanked by a Russian and one of the Irregulars.

"Certainly," Sergeant Garlon answered.

Joe nodded and stepped aboard followed by his two associates.

"Gentlemen," he said. "Meet Nikolai and Gin."

"Hey," Gin said dismally while Nikolai just nodded.

"Boys meet Sergeant Garlon and second platoon, meanest bunch I've ever meet."

This caused a small laugh from the squad.

"Glad to see you're not sitting this one out sir," Garlon said.

"Wouldn't want to be anywhere else," Joe replied.

"Maybe that bar on the Phoenix," Gin muttered.

This drew some laughter from all present. The mood lightened some what they started chatting nervously amongst themselves, cracking the odd joke here or there. The minutes wore on until Joe put up a hand for silence.

He put a hand to his headset and nodded.

Garlon banged on the Drivers compartment and the Kodo lurched forwards. Silence fell upon them once more as the hatch was sealed. The Compartment lights came to life coloring them all neon green. A single blue light at the front remained dark however. They knew that when it was light they would enter into battle. For the moment however they were entombed in the metal casket.

"Need to gunners on the nade launchers," the driver reported over the intercom.

"Compton," Garlon barked. "You and me on the launchers."

Compton nodded and clambered up one of the two side ladders into the turrets. Once he was up in the reinforced bubble on top he could see the massive armored convoy around them. Tanks rolling along side them with lighter vehicles like Mabari Assault Bikes, Vultures, and Mongoose's weaving in between them. Above was a swarm of close support aircraft from nimble Banshee's to larger Falcons.

And before them was a wall of debris, cars, gun emplacements, trenches, tank traps, fox holes, barbed wire, and towers. The space between had been demolition by the Twitards to provide materials for their defenses and to rob the Knights of Trope of cover. Now a barricade of junk surrounded Seattle from its two major approaches, a marvel that defied explanation of how they had completed such a feat in a matter of weeks.

As if sensing his thoughts the first of the defenses came to life sending mortar rounds and shells at the Knights of Trope. Most either missed, were evaded, or turned out to be duds but a few hit home sending a vehicle here or the there spiraling out of control. The Knights of Trope returned fire with waves of missiles, shells, and bullets. Compton could see Twitard's thrown into the air by explosions or Towers smash to splinters by explosions.

Still the Twitard's kept up the address of fire and Compton found himself adding his own fire into the assault as they drew closer. A warthog exploded ahead of them and the ruined Machine gun banged off the hull less than a foot away from Compton's protective dome.

As they drew closer the light armor moved into to shred the outer defenses. Armed with everything from explosive tipped lances to rocket launchers the adhoc armored cavalry tore through the fox holes and roared over trenches leaving grenades and other bombs behind them to deal with surviving defenders. Land mines exploded around them as they either tripped them or tricked them with armored plows. They drew fire from the transports as the tanks held back to give support while the Aircraft began to soften up defenses behind the wall. Anti air fire filled the air to little avail as most of the RPG's seemed to misfire or were duds.

Several Transports rolled ahead of the rest and opened up their top hatches. Forth upon flaming jet packs roared the Champions who flew into the enemies defenses, heedless of incoming fire from either directions. Three landed in a gun tower and a moment later it erupted into flames. Four Twitards tumbled out of the tower screaming and on fire. The Champions emerged unscathed and came down upon the wall continuing their mad slaughter.

Now they were closing rapidly on the wall, bullets bouncing off the Kodo's armor as they approached. Compton nailed a tower with a grenade just as they smashed through. Blue light filled the cabin below him.

"Move! Move! Move!" General Palmer shouted and with a roar Second Platoon first squad poured out of the Kodo. Compton fired off shells until his ammo counter was empty before dropping back into the Cabin with Sergeant Garlon.

"Let's move it Compton," Garlon said with a grin. "No missing this party!"

Then he charged out of the Kodo with a roar of Lok'tar Ogar. Compton followed him out and entered into the battle proper.

The Twitards seemed to have guessed that the Knights of Trope would breach the wall and had prepared their defenses accordingly. Machine gun nests and snipers covered the streets with deadly fields of fire. The streets had been stripped of as much cover as possible and there was a good twenty yards between the wall and the city itself. Compton charged into the fray trying to avoid stumbling over the fallen.

Most of the squads were forming up at the corners of buildings trying to put up the fire needed to advance.

The push needed to came as the tanks rolled in cannons blazing. Twitards shrieked as they were blown apart or their defenses destroyed. The Knight's rolled forward guns blazing tearing into the out skirts. The fighting soon began to resemble Forks once again, as the Twitards broke away from their defenses and fled. In the open they were easy prey for the Knights of Trope.

As they went in deeper however the defenses became more focused. Barricades and armed bridges crossing the streets but giving ideal firing positions.

As they battled to remove one such position Compton heard the chak chak chak of Helicopter blades and looked up. Dozens of Chinook helicopters were flying over their heads, and he knew that these had to be the evac helicopters for the civilians rescued by the Farstriders during the night. It raised his spirits to know that one objective had been completed.

A Centaur rolled up to support them at last and blasted through the barricade.

Then in response a shell blew the Centaur apart!

"T-72!" Westwood shouted as the Tank smashed past the wreckage of the barricade and sent second platoon running for cover.

"Get a rocket in that thing!" Garlon hollered.

The platoon's rocket jock brought his weapon to bear and fired. The Rocket slammed into the Tanks front armor and exploded. To their dismay however the tank had survived the attack and responded by nearly blowing the rocket jock to kingdom come with its next shot.

"Gin!" Joe shouted.

Compton glanced over his shoulder just in time to see a blur pass him. The Irregular reached the tank and with one arm tore off the main hatch. Then in he dropped in a grenade and jumped clear. There was a muffled bang, a scream, and the tank fell silent.

"And that folks is why I'm awesome," Gin said dusting himself off.

**KoT**

Randwin pulled his bike into a tight turn down an alley before hitting the brakes. He removed his helmet and wiped the sweat from his forehead as his brother pulled in behind him.

"How many are you at now?" Raenar asked his tone barely hiding the delight he felt at the battle.

"Twenty seven at least," Randwin replied pulling up his canteen only discover it had taken a hit and sprung a leak. "You?"

"Thirty three," Raenar replied handing him his own canteen. Randwin took it and drank deeply.

The chak chak chak reached them and they looked up as one to see the helicopters pass over head.

"Looks like she succeeded," Raenar stated.

"True that," Randwin replied.

"And now we probably need to go bail her out," Raenar said.

Randwin nodded replacing his helmet and giving Raenar back his canteen.

"Well then best get to it." He said.

"Race you," Raenar said reeving his engine.

"You're on," Randwin replied tearing out of the alley and back out into the fight.

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**Ranger24: And so the Battle of Seattle at last begins. Next time we push on with a deadly surprise attack. Read and review!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Ranger24: And here's the new chapter you have all so patiently been waiting for. Enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter 14: No parking.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**TS-1029 "Kung Pow", Seattle Harbor, Special Forces** **Youkia Volunteer Irregular regiment Combat Specialist Tsukune Aono, 2325 hours Military time, A day.**

The sounds of explosions and rifle fire in the distance was a disquieting backdrop as the cargo ship cut through the water towards the Seattle wharf. It was cool, not cold or warm but somewhere in between, compared to the chill of Alaska it was balmy. Mandolorian warriors and Irregulars kept low on the deck, trying to stay out of sight. They were running dark, with no lights or illumination, typical of a smuggling vessel.

Tsukune was near the aft command deck, grateful that he did not have to worry about water getting into his M7S yet. Moka stood beside him at the railing, her inner self out preemptively.

"Can you smell it?" She asked.

"What?"

"The blood," she answered with a nod to the city.

Tsukune gave a sniff and grimaced. It was faint, masked by many other horrid scents but he could pick it up.

"We're going right into the thick of that," he muttered.

"Just keep your head down," Moka said with a smirk. "You'll be fine."

"I've got you covered."

Tsukune was not honestly surprised to find Mizore standing behind them with her rifle slung over a shoulder.

"Glad to have you with us," he said turning back to the nearing city.

From above he could now here the voice of one of Tal's Mandolorians in the bridge.

"Looks like the signals from the log book we captured are working sir."

"Any alerts?" Tal asked.

"Most of the Twitards are engaging the main army to the North and South. The Fierfek's still think we're one of their's."

Tsukune let out a small smile. Maybe they'd get off easy?

Then an artillery shell hit the obseravtion deck at the bow tearing it apart! The Irregular's and Mandolorians scrambled to fighting positions as machine gun fire, rpgs, and Mortars flew at them.

"Get down!" Moka shouted pulling Tsukune down as a streamer of rounds flew over their heads.

"Bring up the AT-TE!" Tal shouted, "All units select targets and return fire!"

With a great groan the AT-TE rose up the main lift from the hold. As soon as it was in position its main Mass Driver Cannon fired, spitting fire out at the wharfs. Irregular's and Mandolorians added their own fire to the counter address even as here and there one or two of their number fell to incoming fire.

"Raise our flag!" Tal ordered, "We're gonna ram it down their throats!"

An RPG exploded on the rail near them, showering them with bits of shrapnel.

"We need to get on the deck," Moka shouted.

"Right!" Tsukune shouted leading them down onto the deck. The cargo ship was now going full speed to the wharf amidst a storm of oncoming fire. He shot a glance over his shoulder back up at the command tower and saw the flags of the Cuy'val Darasuum and the Knights of Trope flying from the rear pole, flapping defiantly against the onslaught.

"BRACE FOR IMPACT!" Some one shouted. Tsukune turned about and realized to his alarm that the Mandolorians were going to ground the ship on the wharf.

"Hang on!" He shouted.

The ship crashed into wharf with a groan of steel and crash of concrete. Anyone who hadn't had the time to prepare themselves was thrown to the blood splattered deck. The incoming fire slackened for a moment as the Twitards struggled to adjust their fire to hit the ship giving the attackers their opportunity.

Down for the command tower came Tal and his elite Mandolorian commandos barreling over the deck rails onto the wharfs firing their blasters at any target they could see. Over the rails jumped more warriors weapons ready, shouting battle cries. Tsukune found himself swept up in the rush for the rails. He sprang off the ship and landed with a roll trying to find his footing. The attack was overwhelming the outer defenses of the Twitards, leaving shattered positions in the wake of the attack.

Tsukune struggled to find Moka, realizing to his dismay they had been separated upon landing. To make matters worse the Twitards were beginning to put up a more focused defense. Machine gun nests and small gangs of Twitards were counter attacking trying to stone wall the assault through sheer volume of fire and body mass.

A mortar exploded not five feet away from him flinging him into a near by alley way. He hit the brick wall and crashed to the asphalt ears ringing. He saw a Twitard coming at him from down the alley with a bayonet ready to strike. He struggled to move but found his own reactions suddenly sluggish.

Then Moka sailed over him, striking the charging Twitard in the face with one of her trade mark kicks. The Twitard's skull pulped as it smashed into the walls and crumpled. Moka turned to Tsukune her eyes filled with sudden alarm. Her lips moved but her voice was distorted. It was then Tsukune noticed a thin trail of hot red blood dripping down from his hair.

Moka pulled him to his feet and half dragged, half carried him behind the shelter of a dumpster. She pulled off his helmet and spoke again but Tsukune couldn't make out the words. His head hurt to much. Moka seemed to grow more alarmed by the moment shouting something down either end of alley way every few seconds.

Another Forsaken came, his corpse like appearance hardly phasing Tsukune as he knelt down to examine him. The undead man's jaw worked but Tsukune could understand him anymore than he could Moka. The Forsaken scowled and then back handed Tsukune with his thin rotting hand.

Instantly sound came rushing back as though something had been knocked back into place. Screams and explosions mixed in the air with gun fire all fighting to assert their dominance.

"Can you understand me?" The Forsaken asked.

"Yes," Tsukune replied.

"Good you aren't brain dead," the forsaken replied tossing Tsukune his M7S. "Can you stand?"

Tsukune pushed himself up using the wall for support. His legs shook for a moment before he steadied himself.

"Well then if you can walk you can fight," the Forsaken said turning to leave.

"Are you mad?" Moka snapped. "He needs medical attention!"

"And where would he get it?" The Forsaken asked. "We've got now Aid Station or Head Quarters at the moment. Everyone who can walk fights or dies."

"I thought we were supposed to have support," Tsukune said trying to alleviate the numbness in his arms by rolling his shoulders.

"Hasn't made it yet," the Forsaken replied.

"Well who are you?" Tsukune asked.

"Jacob Weblade," the undead answered. "Medic."

"Well then you're with us I guess," Tsukune said grimly.

**Seattle, Alaskan FWY, 2355 hours, A day, Lance Corporal Van Compton, 1st Vanguard Regiment, 2 Battalion, E Company, Second Platoon.**

Fire roared down the street as a truck exploded. Shrapnel skipped off the asphalt, as Compton ducked back down into the alley. Second Platoon was back on duty after a few hours rest near noon. The Knights of Trope were advancing quickly north and south through the city. Twitard lines were collapsing all along the city leaving only a few pockets of resistance and rapidly collapsing defense.

Still it hadn't been an easy push, second platoon was down three Knights and had fought for more than six hours total. General Palmer waved them up to the next intersection. A machine gun nest opened up on them from a store front, a rocket silenced the gun in a blast of fire. They stopped to let the tanks accompanying them roll up to catch them.

"So when we getting off the line?" Westwood asked, leaning against a shredded street lamp.

"Stow it Westwood," Garlon growled, slapping a fresh clip into his rifle.

_"Texas this is Phoenix Actual do you read? Over."_

Compton was taken by some surprise to hear Commander Ranger's voice over his comm system.

"This is Texas Phoenix Actual, we read you over," Palmer answered.

_"Texas, Mando's run into heavy resistance near down town and need support. We're coordinating air assets to provide support but they could use some ground support. Can you assist? Over."_

"Thats affirmative Phoenix Actual," Palmer replied. "Might need a lift though. Over."

"_Copy that," _the Commander replied. "_Sending a couple of hogs to your position, mount up and roll on through. Phoenix Actual out."_

"Great so we gotta save the pre Madonna unit," Westwood muttered.

"Lock it down boy," Garlon growled. "Some one needs our aid, we give it."

It wasn't long before several Pelican's came in dropping off their hogs in the intersection one by one. Two Transport Warthogs, one missile hog, two chain gun hogs, and two Gauss hogs. Second platoon piled into the vehicles with Compton getting on the machine gun of the same hog as Garlon and Westwood.

"Alright people lets roll!" Palmer shouted and the small convoy moved out.

"Total BS," Westwood muttered. "The f*ck can't some other bunch be doing this crap."

"Last warning," Garlon growled.

The Twitards quickly made note of their movements it seemed. The response was sporadic but still threatening. Machine guns, snipers, and RPG's were the common threat they encountered. Against a platoon's worth of warthog's however this disorganized defense was useless.

As they sped north however the defense became more and more concentrated. Compton wondered just what kind of hornets nest the Mandolorians and Irregulars had kicked over.

**Seattle, Down Town, Special Forces** **Youkia Volunteer Irregular regiment Combat Specialist Tsukune Aono, 2402 hours Military time, A +1 day.**

"We got another tank!" Some one shouted and Tsukune cursed ducking back into cover.

"Where did they get all this damned armor?" Moka snarled firing off a burst before joining him.

"Russia, China, North Korea, Ebay maybe?" Weblade suggested as bullets ripped past them.

The Irregulars and Mandolorians had hit it hard now. The Twitard's seemed obsessed with crushing their attack with extreme prejudice. The further inland they got the heavy resistance they encountered. Now that resistance included tanks.

A T-72 was rolling down the street blasting away at the Irregulars and Mandolorians while additional Twitard forces moved up behind it to press the counter attack. Tsukune didn't dare move for fear of revealing their position to the tank.

"We need air support now," Moka hissed as the T-72 blasted squad away further up the street.

"To right."

Tsukune looked up in surprise to see Tal and three of his Mandolorians join them.

"Sir," he started.

"Just stay put," the Mandolorian said cutting him off. "I just got of the comm with the cloak wearing nut in space, said he's sending us some help."

"And how long until it gets here?" Weblade asked dryly.

A moment later the tank exploded as a stream of missiles impacted against it. Wreckage showered the Twitards who drew back screaming as AH/G-24 Banshee disengaged its cloak, hovering over the street.

"Right now," Tal replied smartly.

The Banshee continued to launch long streams of missiles down the street sending the Twitards into a hasty retreat. That is until one charged forward with a stinger missile in tow.

"Some one take that fierfek out!" Tal shouted.

A shot roared out and the missile bearing Twitard's head exploded.

"Done," Mizore said walking up behind them with her eye still fixed on the scope.

"Was wondering where you'd gotten to," Tsukune said as the Snow Fairy fired off two more shots into the retreating Twitards.

"Sniping," she replied.

"We're going to need a little more than that to punch through this," Tal muttered.

Then as if on que a stream of Warthogs smashed grills first into the retreating Twitards. Tsukune winced slightly at the sound of crunching bones and screams of terror.

"Evening ladies!" Someone called from the nearest hog.

"Palmer? That you?" Tal shouted back.

"Yep, sorry we're a little late," Joe replied as his driver redirected the hog down the street while the rest pressed the attack. "Traffic was miserable."

"Evening Tsukune, Moka, Mizore," Gin who was on the Hogs chain gun greeted. "The hell happened to your head Tsukune."

"Mortar," Tsukune replied, relieved to see a few friendly faces.

"Joe," Mizore greeted.

"Mizore," Joe said with a smile. "How was Alaska?"

"Lovely," she replied. "A little to many bad guys but the weather was wonderful."

"Reunions later if we could please," Tal stated. "We're still in a War zone and we've got wounded."

"We just punched a hole back to the main line," Joe replied. "Should be secure soon enough. You can take our transport hogs."

"Glad to hear it," Tal said.

"Happy A day plus vone comrades," Nikolai said from the drivers seat.

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**Ranger24: Yeah seems like a good place to end this chapter today folks. We're entering the home stretch folks. The Boat thing was borrowed from Medal of Honor European Assault. Name the level set in question and you get a cookie. The two main squads have linked up. Not sure if that makes things easier or not. Read and review folks.**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: All eggs in the basket.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Battlestar Phoenix**, **Knights of Trope flagship, in geosynchronous orbit over Seattle Washington, 1242 hours military time, A day +1**

Ranger watched with some satisfaction as his Knights of Trope tore across Seattle. Twitard resistance was collapsing across the city with so far very limited casualties. With Tal's surprise attack the western flank of the Twitards had collapsed while the rest were being pinned between the two assault forces. To cap it off most of the civilians the Twitards had taken hostage had been rescued and most of the Farstrider units had been relieved.

Still a single unit of Farstriders had yet to be recovered, the unit that had deployed the farthest into the city. Deployed to the Citywide Concierge Center, a convention center. This particular position of interest happened to be the point where Major Dyonia had deployed with her team.

Having not heard from the Blood Elf since the deployment Ranger was concerned. That would only allow one response.

"Some one get General Palmer on the horn for me," he ordered.

**Seattle, Madison Street, 1250 hours, A day +1, Lance Corporal Van Compton, 1st Vanguard Regiment, 2 Battalion, E Company, Second Platoon.**

Blood and bits of bone spat forth as Compton brought his chainsaw bayonet through another foe. Not ten feet away Garlon was finishing off another with a blow from his axe while Westwood blasted a third in the chest. The Twitards had been using this particular building they had stormed as a machine gun nest covering the entire street. From above they heard gun and blaster fire as the rest of their adhoc force took out the sniper post on the second floor.

Second Platoon was making good progress through the city, but had taken some losses. Half a squad was down and several NCO's with them. So they had absorbed both General Palmer small team, and some of Tal's units for their push. He kicked aside the bisected corpse and cleared the action of his bayonet.

"Clear," Garlon growled.

"Clear," Westwood said.

The sergeant went to the window and cursed.

"Their making a push!" He shouted, "Compton get on the machine gun!"

Compton jumped into machine gun nest, filled with bodies and shoved the spike riddled corpse of the gunner aside. The weapon in question was a Browning M2 Machine Gun, a fifty caliber weapon. He quickly checked it over, it did not appear to have been damaged by the spike grenade. He cleared the chamber and then took aim.

The Twitards, about a platoon of them were advancing down the street with a truck with another M2 slapped to its tail gate and added armor. He sighted in on the truck first and pulled the triggers. He seemed to hit the engine or something because the truck lost control and slammed into a fire hydrant, water rocketing up into the air. He adjusted his fire to the machine gunner just as the machine gunner opened up on him. He ducked down as rounds tore through the the store front. Garlon, Westwood, and several others in second platoon hit the deck but private Malone fell screaming as bullets tore his chest open.

Compton pulled the triggers again, firing blind as the Twitards no doubt began advancing on the building. A grenade landed in the nest and Compton swore, he couldn't grab it in time!

Then private Franks grabbed the grenade and threw it back, it exploded somewhere in the street and from the screams hit someone. Franks however fell screaming, clutching his arm which had been shredded by bullets.

"Medic!" Westwood cried.

"Suppressing fire!" Garlon shouted opening up with his lancer.

Several of the other joined in the fire but with the machine gun still going no one could take proper aim. A Twitard charged in through the open door only for Westwood to shot her in the gut.

"We're going to get over run!" He shouted.

"Bombs away!"

Then from above fell a dozen spike grenades into the street. The Twitards shrieked in terror and some in agony, having been stuck by the grenades. The grenades exploded as one and several stray spikes flew over their heads into the building. The fire stopped and silence fell upon them save for Franks whimpering. Quickly the squads medic, Winsor, crawled over to aid the wounded man.

"You okay down there?" General Palmer called from above.

"Malon's down," Garlon called back, "Franks is hit."

"Sorry about the delay," Palmer replied. "We're coming on down."

The second team came down from the second floor one of the Mandolorians limping.

"Thanks for the assist sir," Garlon said taking a shot at a few of the corpses, it paid to be sure.

"Not a problem," Palmer replied. "But we've got a new job."

"Oh great," Westwood muttered.

"One of the Farstrider units we sent in before the assaults hasn't reported in," Palmer explained ignoring Westwood's comment. "Command wants us to head to their last known position and see whats going on."

"How far out are we?" Garlon asked.

"A couple of blocks," Palmer answered. "We're closest, so we're up."

"Aren't we always?" Westwood growled.

"Leave some guys here with the wounded," Palmer said once more ignoring Westwood. "Reinforcements will get them to help."

"Roger that," Garlon replied. "Vickers! Bowarm! You two stay with Winsor and Franks. Everyone else, lock and load!"

**Seattle, Citywide Concierge Center, 1258 hours, A day +1, Major Dyonia Furywind, Farstriders Battalion**.

A squeeze of the trigger and the bolt flew from her crossbow. The Twitard trying to escape across the parking lot fell dead as the aluminum bolt pierced his throat. His body landed on top of one of his fellows that lay strewn about the parking lot.

"Excellent shot Major," Sergeant Marik Gloomveil, a Forsaken sniper lying prone next to her, commented.

She nodded.

"Should keep them off us for a while," she said rising to her feet. "Raise the alarm if they come again."

"Will do," he replied.

She headed off back into the Convention center which she and her unit had turned into their fortress for the past two and a half days. The assault had gone smoothly enough, deployed by the stealth Falcons. They had taken the convention center and rescued the civilians with decisive ease. Then they had hunkered down, turning the place into the fortress. They had laid mines, set up defensive machine guns, planted charges, and chosen sniper perches.

The civilians had been evacuated early in the day along with their wounded in exchange for extra ammunition, more explosives, and extra supplies. The Twitards had quickly made ever effort to retake the convention center much to their own losses. Only once or twice had the enemy come within melee range with the Farstriders, only to be cut down. The Twitards had attempted to use tanks to knock them out only to lose their machines to rockets. After losing a dozen tanks the Twitards fell back and tried using mortar teams to bombard them out. Sniper fire had seen to the mortars.

Still as Dyonia toured the defenses she had ordered established it became clearer that the Farstriders could not take much more abuse. Of fifty Farstriders she was down to thirty, most of those lost were wounded rather than dead. Their ammunition was also running low, despite their best efforts to be economical in the expenditure and usage of their supplies. Almost all of their mines and charges had been used up now.

She paused by the make shift field hospital their medics had established and collected a canteen. She drank deeply but stopped before emptying it. They didn't dare refill their canteens from the drinking for fear of the Twitards having poisoned the water. Dyonia knew a thing or two about poisons and sure enough the water had been poisoned. Thus the water from the convention center was only good for cooling the barrels of their weapons.

"_Contact!" _Marik suddenly called. "_Enemy vehicle closing fast!"_

Then there was a crash and the entire building shook.

"_This is Calis at the main entrance," _another Farstrider reported over a machine gun. "_Enemy vehicle crashed through the front door, poured out a squad, we're engaging them!"_

"_More hostile foot mobiles!" _Marik called. "_A whole company!"_

"All hands on deck!" Dyonia barked. "Hold the main entrance!"

She sprinted down the halls to main entrance, joined by a half dozen others as she went. They arrived at the main entrance to find Calis and her squad of four hunkering down behind whatever cover they could find as the Twitards streamed towards the entrance. The enemies tactic became painfully obvious now, smash through the defenses with a single vehicle then swarm the field with enough troops to ensure that some made it to the Convention center, brutally simplistic.

"Pour it on!" She shouted reloading her cross bow with an explosive bolt and firing. The target she struck fell to the ground before the bolt exploded killing two other Twitards. Machine guns and sniper fire thinned the enemy out while the last of their mines blasted apart several more. Sheer numbers however forced the enemy on. They drew nearer to the convention center, finally getting under the range of the snipers and machine guns.

The main entrance would be the last choke point to hold the enemy at bay. The Farstriders poured on the fire, Dyonia's crossbow devastating whole groups. Sheer numbers once again allowed the enemy to break through.

The Twitards charged them, with fixed bayonets, drawn knives and whatever other hand to hand weapons they could fashion or scrounge. The Farstriders drew their own weapons; war blades, knives, daggers, tomahawks, and even a few of the Champion's Rev blades. Dyonia's own daggers were out quickly.

Her first foe jumped at her bayonet raised. She ducked under the strike and plunged her blades into her opponent's guts. She cut down another as her comrades fought for their lives. Vicus, a Turian, went down with two bayonets in his chest, Ginger, a human woman, fell with her face smashed to bloody ruin by a baseball bat, Uther, another Forsaken, fell headless.

"We can't hold them!" Calis shouted plunging her blade into another foe. "Fall back!"

"Belay that!" Dyonia shouted slaying another foe. "Stand your ground!"

Then one twitards opened up with her AK at close range. Calis and two others collapsed with screams off pain. Dyonia shrieked in fury and tore the killers throat out with her blades. Another Twitard slammed into her from the side knocking her to the floor, her daggers clattering away. The Twitards was on her in a second with a knife. Dyonia caught his knife arm and with one swift motion drew a knife and plunged it into her attackers temple.

She shoved the body off herself, most of the Farstriders on the ground floor with her were either wounded or dead. The rest were falling back to superior cover or desperately fighting to get free of the enemy. Three more Twitards charged towards her!

Then one's head exploded from a shot gun blast. A second turned, confused at the sudden death of his comrade, only to have his chest blown open by a second blast. The third brought up her rifle but only shrieked as her arms were blown off. She was finished off a moment later. The Twitards suddenly found themselves under attack from behind by a sizable force who were now closing into melee range with chainsaw bayonets roaring.

The slaughter was over quickly, less than a minute as the Farstriders rescuers cut through their foes.

"Heard you folks might need some help."

Dyonia smirked at Joe.

"What took you bastards so long?" She asked recovering her daggers.

"Traffic was abysmal," Joe answered as his force set to work helping the wounded Farstriders. Calis seemed to still be alive.

"We've got a field hospital upstairs," Dyonia said. "You can take the wounded there."

Joe nodded relaying the orders for the medics. Tal Ordo looked over the defenses the Farstrider's had erected.

"Not bad Elf girl," the Mandolorian commented. "Looks like you all had a good fight."

"Shame that you missed it," she replied.

"Everyone I hate to interrupt," the Orc Sergeant by the entrance said. "But I think we're not done yet."

Everyone turned to where he was pointing and Dyonia cursed. The whole rest of the battalion the previous group had been apart of was charging across the parking lot towards their position.

"I hope you guys have a little more fire power than this," Dyonia said grimly. "Because we're going to need it."

"Not really," Joe admitted.

"Yeah bit of a brain fart really," Tal agreed.

Then there came the roaring of engines.

They all watched in shock as two dozen assault bikes roared into the parking lot machine guns blazing! Twitards, so focused on their attack, didn't even know what was happening until a whole company had been wiped out and by that point the bikes were among them with melee weapons in their riders hands. Centaur tanks, Warthogs, and Mako's rolled in behind them bringing additional fire power into the fray. The Twitards never stood a chance.

"Well that was pretty lucky," one of the Knights admitted.

Two of the bikes rolled on over towards them as the rest of the armored force fanned out to secure the area. Dyonia groaned inwardly when she recognized the riders.

"Did someone call for a rescue?" Randwin proclaimed in his most cocksure tone as he and Raenar came to a halt by the entrance.

"Assholes," Dyonia muttered.

* * *

**Ranger24: And that folks is the chapter. Getting close to the end here, might actually finish before christmas!**

**Oh god why did I say that?**

**Read and review.**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Jaws of death.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Battlestar Phoenix**, **Knights of Trope flagship, in geosynchronous orbit over Seattle Washington, 1947 hours military time, A day +1**

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

The steady monotonous sound was the first sensation to come to her.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Where was she? Her head hurt so much.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

She could remember shouting, an explosion, flying through the air, and then it was silent darkness.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

There was something there however, something in the back of her mind urging her to awaken. She needed to get up, people were in danger.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Fuzzy images began floating back to her of documents, pictures, chemical formulas, order forms. Something about them told her they were important. She tried to make sense of images, it hurt to focus on them.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

She remembered gunfire and the Team leader shouting out orders. She remembered a bright flash of light and a horrific sound. Then she was dragged into darkness, beaten and tortured. They wanted to know what she had seen, how much her squad had gotten.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Then it came flooding back to her in one click, like a candle banishing the darkness.

Xion opened her eyes.

**Seattle, Down town, 1950 hours, A day +1, Lance Corporal Van Compton, 1st Vanguard Regiment, 2 Battalion, E Company, Second Platoon.**

"On your feet people."

Compton turned over, he wanted to sleep.

"Come on lets go!"

Would the voice just leave him alone.

"Compton! Get your ass off the ground!"

The sergeants harsh tone snapped Compton out of his nap and he stood up, snatching up his Lancer. The Platoon had been grabbing some much needed R&R a short way back from the front line of battle. Having been on and off the front line so frequently meant grabbing what sleep you could when you had the chance. Tal's forces had rejoined with their unit sometime ago leaving the platoon at a little over two dozen.

Westwood grumbled something about having a nice dream when General Palmer entered flanked by Gin and Nikolai.

"Everyone I've got good news," he said. "Intel believes we've got a firm fix on Cullen's location."

This immediatly perked everyone up.

"Where's Sparkles hiding?" Garlon asked.

"Not to far ahead of us," Palmer replied. "City hall."

A cheer went up amongst the Knights of second platoon. They were finally closing in on the main target of this entire offensive.

"Multiple units of Farstriders and the Irregulars are moving to attack the building but we're close enough to get there first," Joe explained.

"Whats the rules of engagement?" Garlon asked.

"Secure the building, cut the exits, and wait for back up."

There was an out cry of this now.

"Cullen may be a Sparkly douche but he's still a vampire," Joe explained. "You guys are tough but against that you'll get torn apart."

The grumbling stopped and second platoon assembled.

"Let's make some noise people!" Joe called leading them out into the streets.

Things outside where strikingly different from the way it had been hours before. Twitard prisoners of war were collecting the dead and placing them on the backs of trucks under guard. Wounded were being driven from the from in warthogs while other Knights set up security check points. Wreckage of vehicles and buildings was being cleared by Kodo APC's with dozer blades. Mere hours ago second Platoon had battled its way up this very street. Now it was already in the process of rebuilding.

Two Kodos pulled up to the curb for them and second platoon hurried aboard. Compton took his place at the grenade launcher and leaned back in the seat. The Kodo's rolled off up the street, passing more check points and secure positions for a few blocks.

It didn't last long.

Soon they were right back on the front line and Compton set to work with his grenade launcher. The Twitards were collapsing everywhere now. They abandoned defensive positions in favor of trying to get away from the unstoppable armored advance of the Knights of Trope. The few that did fight back were rapidly being overwhelmed by vehicles and infantry. It was no longer a battle, it was clean up.

**Battlestar Phoenix**, **Knights of Trope flagship, in geosynchronous orbit over Seattle Washington, 1953 hours military time, A day +1**

Xion struggled to get up even as the medical orderlies desperatly tried to hold her down.

"Joe," she said, "I need to see Joe."

"Girl ya need to lay down," Chief Medical Officer Zal'nak said.

"Joe."

"He ain't aboard," Zal'nak replied. "Ya need ta rest."

This couldn't wait, everyone on the ground was in danger.

"Where is he," she demanded.

"In Seattle."

Xion's heart stopped.

"Sir she's flat lining!"

"Charge da pads!"

"Pads charged!"

"Clear!"

Electricity ripped through Xion's body and she shot back up with a gasp.

"You've got to warn them!" She yelled.

"Missy ya need to rest! Ya just had a heart attack!"

"They're walking into a trap!"

"Whose walking inta a trap?" Zal'nak asked.

"Everyone."

Zal'nak shook his head.

"Get da Commanda down here," he ordered.

**Seattle, Down town, 1956 hours, A day +1, Lance Corporal Van Compton, 1st Vanguard Regiment, 2 Battalion, E Company, Second Platoon.**

"This is it people!" Joe called over the radio as the Kodo's rounded a bend. There was the city hall and for the first time that evening the Twitards were putting up a fight. Machine guns and make shift barricades covered the steps with RPG's and assault rifles. Naturally the machine guns opened up first

"Light 'em up Compton!" Garlon shouted.

Compton answered with a stream of grenade from his weapon. Barricades and machine gun nests blew apart as the Kodo's heavy weapons tore into them. Quickly the Twitard resistance broke down and they began fleeing back up the steps.

"Everyone out!" Joe called. "Time to lock this place down."

"Alright lets go!" Garlon barked. "Compton your with me and Westwood."

Compton clambered down out of the turret, picking up his lancer. Second Platoon poured out of their transports and stormed up the steps. A few Twitards tried to make a stand near the top but were quickly overwhelmed and cut down.

"Fan out!" Joe called. "Secure the exits."

"Am I the only one who thinks this is to easy?" Westwood muttered.

"What do you mean," Garlon growled.

"We had a tougher fight than this at forks," Westwood replied.

"We've probably kicked the fight out of them." Garlon said.

"I don't know sarge," Westwood said grimly. "I don't like it."

**Battlestar Phoenix**, **Knights of Trope flagship, in geosynchronous orbit over Seattle Washington, 1958 hours military time, A day +1**

Ranger hurried down to the medical bay his cloak flapping behind him. He slipped passed a few crewmen who were heading to the cafeteria. He was supposed to be going to the hanger to take a gunship down to Seattle to join in the final attack. Then he gotten the news about Xion's awakening and had immediately adjusted course.

The guards at the entrance to med bay snapped to attention as he approached. They quickly cleared him to enter the medbay and he hurried over to Zal'nak and Xion who was twitching uncontrollably.

"Whats wrong with her?" Ranger asked.

"She had a heart attack boss," Zal'nak replied.

"How is that even possible?" Ranger demanded.

"Well not quite a heart attack, but da organ nobodies use to pump blood in substitution to da heart stopped working on her so we had to give her sometin," Zal'nak explained.

"Okay glad you cleared that up now whats wrong?"

"Everyone down there is walking into a trap," Xion said.

"What do you mean?" Ranger asked.

"Cullen is not in Seattle," Xion replied. "The whole family was moved in secret after the attack on Forks started."

"What?!" Ranger exclaimed.

"Instead they've turned Seattle into one massive Death Trap to wipe us out," Xion continued.

"But we've all but taken the city."

"Thats what they wanted you to do," Xion explained. "They've set up a two stage trap. The first is an EMP Bomb."

Ranger forze, if that bomb went off then all of the Knight's ground vehicles and air support in the city would be removed from action. Worse still all communication would be lost, troops would lose cohesion and direction.

"How long until the bomb goes off?" Ranger asked.

"What time is it?"

Ranger checked his watch.

"Seven fifty eight."

"Two minutes."

Ranger quickly switch on his comm bead.

"Double D!" He barked, "order all of our air support to bug out of Seattle right now! All armor needs to do the same."

"_Aye sir but_-"

"They've got less than two minutes!" Ranger snapped. "Now!"

"_Aye sir_!"

"Whats the second stage?" Ranger asked.

Xion grimaced.

"Unleash an army of Ghouls and crack troops they've prepared and have been holding in reserve."

**Seattle, Down town, 1959 hours, A day +1, Lance Corporal Van Compton, 1st Vanguard Regiment, 2 Battalion, E Company, Second Platoon.**

"You see anything?" Garlon growled.

"Negative," Westwood hissed as they covered one of the side entrances to city hall.

They had been holding position for the past minute in and a half and yet the enemy made no attempt to counter attack or even so much as fire in defense against them. Compton shivered slightly as cold breeze swept up the street to them.

"I don't like this," Westwood muttered.

"Stow it soldier," Garlon growled.

Then suddenly General Palmer broke in over the radio.

"_Everyone fall back! I repeat fall back!"_

"What did he just say?" Westwood demanded.

"Sir," Garlon said ignoring Westwood. "You want us to fall back?"

"_Yes!_" Palmer replied. "_Fall back and find cover right now!_"

"What the hell is up with," Westwood started.

Then suddenly there was a loud bang from with in City hall and then Compton's hud flashed off. His holographic sights for his lancer died as well and they weren't the only things. The street lamps that were still intact flashed off, the Kodo's engines died, and then there came a loud whining roar.

Compton looked up and to his alarm saw a Falcon tumbling out of the sky, its rotor blades loosing power rapidly.

"Take cover!" Garlon shouted.

"What the shit is going on!" Westwood shouted as they ran back down the steps joining the rest of the fleeing second platoon.

"EMP!" Palmer shouted as they ran.

The Falcon crashed nose first into the front side of city hall and exploded showering them with shrapnel. The Knight's dove through the shattered doorway of an office building as they heard more crashes from outside.

"What the hell happened?" A Knight asked.

"We walked right into a trap that's what!" Palmer snarled.

"Ammo check everyone!" Garlon shouted.

Then there came a moan from behind them and the entire platoon turned.

Figures were shambling towards them. Once they had been men, women, and children but now they were mindless walking corpses.

"Shit," Nikolai hissed. "I need more Vodka for this."

* * *

**Ranger24: And so the scheme is revealed at last all of the build up and all of the hints leading to this moment. Without armor or air support will the knights prevail? Read and review.**


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Lights out

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Battlestar Phoenix**, **Knights of Trope flagship, in geosynchronous orbit over Seattle Washington, 2003 hours military time, A day +1**

Ranger stormed onto the CIC with Xion close behind moving on crutches. The CIC was in chaos as crew men struggled to regain control of the situation on the ground.

"Status report," Ranger snapped.

"We've lost all contact with over ninety percent of our infantry forces," Double D reported. "Sixty nine percent of armored vehicles have been disabled or are unresponsive."

"Air support?"

"Twelve of our birds didn't get out of the blast radius in time," Lars reported. "The rest made it back to base."

"Refuel them and rearm them with anti infantry weapons, night vision and thermal optics," Ranger ordered. "I want eyes over the combat zone right now."

"Preybird One is in the air sir," Lars replied. "Over the target in five minutes."

"Good," Ranger said grimly. "Prep evac birds for deployment stat."

"What about Cullen?" Xion asked.

"Do you have any idea's as to where he is?" Ranger asked.

"Um. Sir?"

"Preparing to leave the planet."

"Sir?"

"Over watch," Ranger barked. "Eyes sharp, I want alert Viper's in the void in two minutes. Blockade CAP, they see anything that isn't ours flag it down and if it doesn't stop blow it out of the sky."

"Sir!"

"What?"

Double D put a hand over his head set mic.

"Campbell on the private line for you, he says its urgent."

Ranger cursed.

"XO," he barked.

"Sir!"

"Appraise me of any new developments," he said. "You have the bridge."

"Aye sir."

Ranger hurried from the CIC running through the corridors towards the conference room. The guards snapped a salute as he stepped inside and they sealed the door behind him. He switched on the projector and was greeted by Campbell's agitated face.

"Mr. Campbell," he said hastily.

"_What the hell is going on in Seattle?_" Campbell demanded.

"Twitards set a trap for us," Ranger replied. "EMP bomb combined with a ghoul attack. We're flying blind and have lost contact with ground forces."

"_Can you contain the situation?_" Campbell asked.

"We're working on it sir," Ranger answered.

"_You need to understand,_" Campbell replied. "_The Nuclear option is on the table Commander. Unless you can give us confirmation that you have more than a fifty percent chance of containing the situation an ICBM will be deployed. Seattle will be leveled along with everyone still inside."_

"Two hours isn't a lot of time," Ranger replied.

_"If the situation isn't under control in two hours then we can only a cascade failure of ground forces,_" Campbell replied. "_We can not risk this spreading beyond the Seattle area."_

"I understand sir," Ranger replied grimly.

"_Godspeed Commander,"_ Campbell said his voice equally grim.

**Seattle, Down town, 2012 hours, A day +1, Lance Corporal Van Compton, 1st Vanguard Regiment, 2 Battalion, E Company, Second Platoon.**

"FALL BACK! FALL BACK!"

"THEY'RE EVERYWHERE!"

"I NEED AMMO!"

"CHRIST! RUN!"

"GET 'EM OFF ME!"

"REGROUP!"

"GUN 'EM DOWN! GUN 'EM DOWN!"

"THIS IS FREAKING INSANE!"

Compton's Lancer spat rounds as fast as it could as second platoon scrambled to get away from the larger hordes of ghouls. It was chaos everywhere, different untis were trying to retreat to fall back points only to find themselves cut off or the fall back points over run. Cohesion was breaking down as non coms tried to rally faltering their squads.

Another ghoul fell to his rifle fire only to replaced by another, this was madness, impossible.

"Keep together!" Palmer shouted, breaking Compton from his panic. "Focus your fire and conserve your ammo!"

Palmer, Nikolai, Ginei, and sergeant Garlon were keeping together cutting down any ghouls that came to close to them. Several men were already rallying to join them and fight back. Compton kicked himself back into his proper combat mind set. Training had to take precident over his desire to flee.

Second platoon's rout steadily turned into a fighting retreat as more units steadily began to form up with them, unleashing a curtain of weapons fire upon the hordes of ghouls. Soon they reached a check point that was at least moderatly secured and the adhoc fighting force was at last able to catch its breath.

"Pool the ammunition," Joe ordered. "Form combat lines and set charges around the perimeter."

Compton found the rest of his squad in the mess. He sat at the barricades with Garlon and Westwood unscrewing the cap on his canteen. It was then he noticed it as hole in it, not a direct hit but enough to rupture the vessel. He cursed to himself only for Westwood to offer him his. He took it with a nod and drank deeply.

"So how deep in the shit are we sarge?" Westwood asked.

"I've seen worse," Garlon replied. "Borean Tundra, Wrathgate, Icecrown..."

"I'm serious sarge," Westwood said flatly.

Garlon sighed. "Bad but salvageable so far."

"Really?"

Garlon nodded.

"So long as we don't run out of ammo and stay together we can still win this thing."

Several more Knights rushed passed the barricade to the safety of the check point. Westwood watched them morbidly.

"Its gonna cost us isn't it?" He asked.

"Always does," Garlon answered.

Westwood sighed.

"Got any smokes?"

Garlon produced three Cigars from his pack and passed them out. Compton and Westwood accepted them as Garlon offered a lighter and they light up. They sat there together, smoking on their cigars. Comptom coughed slightly as he inadvertently inhaled some smoke. Garlon grinned, clearly amused.

"To much for you Corporal?" He asked.

"These things are shit sergeant," Westwood said. "How do you stand these things?"

"Bloodthistle's an acquired taste I guess," Garlon replied.

"Hostiles inbound!" Some shouted.

Compton's cigar fell from his mouth as he, Garlon, and Westwood brought their rifles up and sighted down range. Sure enough a mob of ghouls were advancing on them, shuffling along.

"Hold fire!" Palmer shouted. "Wait for them to come in range! Short bursts people!"

"First man down buys the beer," Westwood said dryly.

"You're buying then," Garlon replied.

"Open fire!" Palmer shouted as the entire group opened fire.

Ghouls dropped, heads and arms torn off by well aimed shots.

"This is a damn turkey shoot!" Westwood shouted as ghouls dropped one by one.

Then suddenly a Knight not a yard a way fell with a cry as bullets tore into him.

"Twitards!" Nikolai shouted.

Sure enough Twitards, dressed in black and carrying AK-74's were advancing on them, driving the ghouls against them as moving cover.

"Take 'em down," Joe shouted.

The Knights adjusted their fire to try and get at the Twitards but even as they did another knight fell and then another. The Knights meanwhile found difficulty shooting through their foes at the Twitards.

"What's with these guys?" Westwood demanded.

"These bastards have some actual training," Garlon snarled. "Must have been kept in reserve while we wasted our time on the cannon fodder."

"So their throwing their own comrades lives away like that?" Westwood demanded. "That's sick."

"Makes sense," Garlon growled. "Doesn't mean I like it. Cowards have no honor."

What started as shooting at hordes of ghouls was now devolving into a shooting match between the Twitard elites and the Knights of Trope. One by one each side would pick off one of the others fighters even as the ghouls continued to advance. Charges exploded taking out several groups of foes evening the odds a bit but the fighting still raged on.

"Where the hell is air support?" Westwood demanded.

As if on cue a Banshee roared overhead dropping a stream of missiles into the street. The Knights ducked down as the Air to surface missiles tore into the Twitards and ghouls. Shrieks and screams were drowned out by explosions and the Knights cheered their victory.

"Hell yeah!" Westwood shouted rising up. "How do you like that you-"

A round struck Westwood.

It struck him straight in the face.

His face ballooned for a micro second before it collapsed in on itself around the impact point.

Westwood fell dead, a grin on his face.

"NO!" Garlon roared.

The sergeant dropped his rifle shaking Westwood's corpse with his arms.

"Damnit no!" He snarled. "Get back up soldier! Damnit get up!"

Compton reached out a hand to the sergeant's shoulder only for the Orc to turn on his heel, eyes red with rage and blood lust.

"THEY ALL MUST DIE!" He roared before mantling over the barricade and charging at the retreating Twitards.

"Sergeant get back here!" Joe shouted but Garlon clearly did not listen as he bore down on the fleeing foes his pistol gunning them down one by one while his axe was held ready to hack down the rest. "Damnit! Compton after him!"

Compton nodded and mantled over the barricade running after his sergeant.

Keeping up with an Orc in a blood rage however quickly proved to be even harder than he had imagined. Garlon was smashing his way through whole groups with shocking ease in his blood rage. His opponents were either to alarmed by his sudden onslaught or were ghouls and thus to slow to really fight back as the Orc Veteran tore through them.

Compton meanwhile had a harder time of it, having to run for cover frequently as snipers opened up on him or ghouls Garlon had missed rushed him. His Lancer Ammunition began to run low so he switched to his M6S and used it to the best of his ability to deal with the detritus of Garlon's ruthless advance. The chase however was taking them deeper into the city and further away from the rest of the platoon.

He scavanged some ammo when he could from a fallen Knight who was thankfully not a ghoul. He was losing ground on the Sergeant however and if he did not hurry Garlon would likely find himself in over his head.

He hurried down another block and saw a pile of fresh bodies at the entrance to an office building and heard the sounds of screams and furious roars from within. Compton rushed inside passing more slain Twitards as the screams grew fewer and more infrequent but the roars became louder. Soon the screams stopped all together. At last he came upon the landing of the third floor and charged through the open door of a work area, rifle raised and at the ready.

It was a scene of utter and total unrestrained slaughter. The floor was strewn with brutally hacked and savaged Twitard bodies, many missing limbs or heads, all clearly having died in terror. Weapons and blood were strewn upon the floor not far from their owners while bits of broken furniture lay scattered about.

And there was Garlon still furiously hacking with his axe into the corpse of a slain foe, blood covering his arms. Compton approached slowly, slinging his rifle and drawing his pistol. When he was about ten feet away Garlon dropped his axe and began simply beating the body with his fists.

Compton put a hand on his shoulder.

The Orc swung about knocking him to the floor. He tackled Compton, one hand grabbing his armed hand while the other wrapped around his throat. Compton kicked and struggled rapidly losing the ability to breathe unable to speak.

Then the red began to fad from Garlon's eyes. He seemed confused for a moment as to what was happening before his eyes widened with horror. He released Compton's throat.

"Corporal?" He whispered stepping away, shaking slightly.

Compton nodded rubbing his throat gingerly.

"I lost control didn't I?"

Compton nodded again his throat hurting to much to speak.

Garlon cursed.

"I have shamed myself," he snarled. "I have shamed myself, my ancestors, and my comerades in arms."

Garlon sat down on a barely intact chair, starring at his feet dejectedly. Compton pushed himself up, still rubbing his throat.

"I have watched many warriors die by my side," Garlon began. "Good warriors, brave and honorable. Westwood..." He choked for a moment. "Westwood was never meant to be a warrior, he always complained and questioned orders. But he fought with us still, he shed blood alongside us."

The Orc stared out the window.

"In war's I have fought before now," he said, "even on Azeroth where guns are becoming more common warriors still fight with honor. They still die fighting and facing their killer. This type of warfare though is so, impersonal. Death only means something when it is your own who do the dying. There is no honor here."

Compton stared down at Garlon's fallen axe for a moment. It was drenched in more blood than you could find at a blood drive. Still he picked it up and turned back to face the sergeant.

"Sir," he said his voice raspy from having been choked. "Has that meant anything?"

Garlon looked up surprised.

"Honor doesn't come from killing," Compton continued. "It comes from standing beside someone you barely know and refusing to let them down. To stick with them until your dying breath."

Compton then proffered Garlon his axe.

"So are you going to stand with me?"

Garlon looked from Compton's face, to his axe, and then back again. A ghost of a smile appeared on the Sergeants lips and he accepted the weapon.

"Keep talking like that Corporal," Garlon growled, "and you'll have your own squad before long."

Compton grimaced.

**Battlestar Phoenix**, **Knights of Trope flagship, in geosynchronous orbit over Seattle Washington, 2043 hours military time, A day +1**

The Phoenix's CIC was still a buzz with frantic activity. Trying to coordinate a counter attack with ground forces that could not be communicated with was a daunting task. Ranger was glad to see that his crew were rising to the challenge.

"Sir!" Double D called out. "I have General Palmer!"

"Put him through," Ranger ordered.

Ranger's head set buzzed for a moment before to his relief Joe's voice came through.

"_Ranger that you?"_

"Reading you loud and clear," Ranger replied relieved. "What's your situation?"

"_I got just shy of a hundred guys here with me at a check point down town_," Joe replied. "_We've come under attack repeatedly but we're holding_."

Ranger nodded to himself.

"I got bad news for you Joe," he said grimly.

"_Is there anything but bad news?_" Joe asked.

"Funny," Ranger replied. "Campbell called almost an hour ago. Unless we can give conformation that Seattle can be contained then the Government is going to nuke the city."

Joe swore.

"_How much time do we have?_" He asked.

"A little over an hour."

_"Okay what's the plan?_"

"Get some flares going up," Ranger answered. "I'm having the word spread to all forces, mark their position with flares when they see flares from the Space Needle."

"_Good idea_," Joe agreed. _"We'll know where all our troops are and how dispersed we are. One problem, the Space Needle is in enemy hands_."

"Well you're just going to have to take it from them," Ranger replied.

Joe sighed.

"N_othing's ever easy is it?"_

"Nope.

* * *

**Ranger24: And that folks is the chapter. Surprise surprise, our previously mute protagonist speaks! Read and review.**


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Storm in the shadows

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Seattle, Down Town, Special Forces** **Youkia Volunteer Irregular regiment, Combat Specialist Tsukune Aono, 1956 hours Military time, A +2 day.**

The smell of burning gasoline and bodies made Tsukune feel nearly ill as he rode on a Falcon over Seattle. The small aircraft was nimble enough to move through the city with ease. Weblade, Mizore, and Moka were riding with him all trying to be as comfortable as they could in the cramped aircraft. Moka was in her sealed state to give her Inner self a short break. Not far behind them was a second and a third Falcon carrying Tal and Dyonia's squads.

"The smell of death decay and destruction," Weblade said taking a sniff. "Reminds me of home."

"That's kind of creepy," Tsukune replied.

"You can smell things?" Mizore asked.

Considering that most of Weblade's nose was missing Mizore's comment was understandable. Weblade cackled.

"I may be missing a few parts," Weblade said. "But my sense are still mostly functioning."

"Mostly?" Tsukune asked.

"I'm color blind," Weblade answered. "But my other senses still work."

"So is that just you or all undead?" Tsukune asked.

"Well that depends on the amount of decay," Weblade explained. "Most of us are color blind, the more decayed are fully blind, only a few are able to differentiate colors."

"Do you ever miss them?" Moka asked.

"What?" Weblade asked.

"Colors."

Weblade's remaining facial muscles worked to produce a surprisingly somber expressions.

"Most try not to dwell on it," he replied. "Still, at times..."

"I'm sorry," Moka said quietly.

"It's no trouble," Weblade assured her.

_"Everyone we are bugging out,"_ the pilot suddenly said.

_"What?" _Tsukune heard Tal say over the radio. _"Why the flaming hell are we pulling out?"_

"_No time,"_ the pilot replied. _"Command just issued a full fall back order to all air units."_

The Falcon's tore away, gaining altitude away from the city.

_"Get me Commander Ranger right now,"_ Tal snapped. _ "I want an explanation!"_

"_Really have more important things to worry about," _the pilot replied.

_"I said now pilot!"_

Then there was a bang. Below them the city lights rapidly went dark. Then the Falcon's engines died.

They fell screaming, the Falcon tumbling out of the air with the pilot likely desperately trying to fight to keep the craft level as it went down. Tsukune, Moka, Mizore, and Weblade desperately held onto whatever they could as their restraints struggled to keep them in pace. Desperately Tsukune grabbed a hold of Moka's Rosario and pulled it free. Even as they fell from the sky Moka's hair bleached itself silver and her eyes turned blood red.

Then they hit the ground and Tsukune blacked out.

**Seattle, Down town, 2049 hours, A day +2, General Joe Palmer, 1st Vanguard Regiment, 2 Battalion, E Company, Second Platoon, Special Strike Team Codename Texas.**

"Let's move it out people come on!" Joe shouted blasting down another ghoul with his AA-12.

"Have I ever mentioned how bad of an idea this is?" Gin asked.

"Plenty comrade," Nikolai replied.

"Stowe it guys," Joe growled.

Joe's adhoc taskforce was steadily fighting its way northward. The Pelican drop that had found them had evaced their wounded and deliver ammunition and new radios. That made one helpful thing possible, close air support was back.

Admittedly he could not see their air support but that was not a real problem. The AH/G-24 Banshee's optical stealth protected it from small arms fire, making it perfect for close air support. The particular pair of pilots supporting his force, Shadow Wing 1 and Shadow Wing 2, seemed to know their stuff. Speaking of the Devils the two were in the process of turning a mob of ghouls into an ugly paint job on the asphalt.

"_Way's clear sir," _Shadow Wing 1 reported. _"Move on up over."_

"Roger that," Joe replied motioning his troops forward. "Gain some altitude and do a quick scout ahead. Over."

"_Wilco,"_ Shadow Wing 1 answered. "_Shadow Wing out."_

As the Banshee's rose up to the point where their rotators were silent, Joe took a moment to recover. He was exhausted, days of continuous fighting with little rest were taking there toll on him. He took a look about the ruined city around him and felt the weariness wash over him mixed with sorrow. He was in command here, he'd lead these people into a trap and now he had to get them out.

He just hoped he wouldn't be to late to save them.

**Seattle, Down Town, Special Forces** **Youkia Volunteer Irregular regiment, Combat Specialist Tsukune Aono, 2051 hours Military time, A +2 day.**

Tsukune's eyes fluttered opened with his head throbbing in pain. His thoughts were fuzzy and his vision presented him images that made no sense in his mind.

Where was he? What had happened?

He heard loud noises all around him that made no sense to his ears. He tried to move but his body hurt to much.

Then a figure entered his field of vision. She was pretty. Moka?

Her lips moved her eyes alarmed and terrified but he couldn't make out her words.

Then she bent down over him, her mouth pressing against his collar. He felt a moment of brief pain.

Then burning needles shrieked through his body attacking his every cell and his nerves! He cried aloud his vision briefly going red and his wrist burning with pain. His teeth ached as his incisors elongated.

Then her hand smashed across his face and it came to a stop. Bullets screamed through the air mixed with screams and shouts.

"Get up!" Moka shouted.

"What?" He asked.

"Get up!"

Moka pulled him up and he stood on wobbly legs. They were in the wreckage of the Falcon with Weblade and Mizore with swarming enemies all around them.

"Oh look sleeping beauty is awake?" Weblade asked ducking down for cover behind the wreckage.

"I'm fine," Tsukune replied tentatively picking up his fallen M7S.

"You were unconscious for almost an hour," Weblade deadpanned.

"Which is super bad for you," Mizore added.

A bullet narrowly missed Weblade's head.

"You know what?" He said. "Never mind you're good to go."

Tsukune grimaced and took his place on the line. The other two Falcon's in their group had crashed relatively close by. The Farstrider position was half a block up the street while the Mandolorians were downed roughly the same distance down the street. The Farstriders were putting up a heavy stream of fire but the Mandolorians fire was sporadic and infrequent.

"What's happening?" He asked.

"We're being shot at," Mizore replied. "The Tal and his Mandolorians weapons got fried by the EMP. They're stuck using salvaged weapons and knives."

Another round narrowly missed their heads.

"We've got to get out of here," Tsukune said.

"Not happening," Weblade replied. "We're surrounded."

A grenade exploded on the other side of the wreckage showering them in dust and derbies.

"Well we've got to do something!" Moka snapped firing a burst in retaliation.

"Well someone had best think of something!" Weblade snapped.

Tsukune fired off a burst himself downing another target.

"Maybe if we can coordinate with the others," he said, "we could fight or way out?"

"Not happening," Weblade replied, "there's to many of them."

Mizore got off a shot with her sniper rifle.

"Two mags left," she warned.

Tsukune stood up to take another shot only for someone to jump in on top of him!

The Twitard brought up her knife screaming an insane shriek. Tsukune's fist smashed into her face knocking her aside but more jumped into their covered position with knives and bayonets ready. Another jumped on him bringing down a bayonet which he kicked off before head butting her, smashing her nose. Then a third was on him and thrust a knife into his arm! Tsukune cried out and struggled to throw her off to no avail!

BANG!

Shot gun pelts tore the Twitard off with a single blast.

"Get."

BANG!

"The."

BANG!

"Hell."

BANG!

"Off."

BANG!"

"My!"

BANG!

"Friends!"

Joe stood there blasting each Twitard down one by one with methodical precision More Knights were moving up the street behind him, driving the enemy back.

"What took you so long?" Tsukune asked with a grimace as Joe helped him to his feet.

"Traffic was terrible," Joe replied.

"One moment," Weblade said coming up to Tsukune and then roughly pulling the knife out of his arm. Tsukune cried out with a curse as Weblade applied antiseptic.

"Hello kids," Gin said hoping in to join them. "Who shanked Tsukune?"

Moka pointed to the half torn open Twitard at Tsukune's feet. Gin nodded and put three rounds from his Lancer into the corpses head.

"So what happened?" Tsukune asked.

"Long story short," Joe answered. "EMP went off, now we have to capture the Space Needle in about an hour or we get bombed."

"Oh joy," Moka muttered.

"I think we've need to get away from this street," Mizore replied.

Joe nodded.

"Shadow Wing Flight this is Texas," Joe said. "We need this street cleared ASAP, over."

"_Copy that Texas,"_ a female voice replied over Joe's headset. _"Sit tight, we're inbound. Over."_

On cue a pair of Banshee's came down spraying missiles into the street. The Knights cheered in responses as the Twitards were being blown to pieces by the missiles.

_"Like shooting fish in a barrel,"_ another female voice said confidently.

Then a missile shot up and struck one in the blades.

"_SHIT!" _ The second female voice screamed_. "I'M HIT!"_

_"May day may day!"_ The first shouted. "_Texas we've got active Anti Air from an office building, fourth floor end of the street!"_

Joe cursed as one of the Banshee's went down hard in the middle of the street.

"Nikolai!" He barked, "Secure the crash sight! Get the pilot out!"

"Da! Da!" The Russian replied.

They scrambled out of the wreckage to say another missile fly from the fourth floor. Thankfully the second Banshee got air and broke away.

"Mizore do you have a shot?" Joe asked.

"Sights are out," Mizore replied. "Can't see anything."

"LOK'TAR OGAR!"

Everyone stared as a screaming Twitard with a Stinger was thrown from the building and screams came from the floor.

"Sergeant Major?" Joe called.

Garlon stuck his head out the window.

"General!" He shouted in greeting. "Sorry about the earlier out burst."

"We'll deal with it later," Joe replied a grin returning to his face. "Get down here."

Tsukune shook his head in bemusement. Maybe they could get out this one?

**Battlestar Phoenix**, **Knights of Trope flagship, in geosynchronous orbit over Seattle Washington, 2103 hours military time, A day +2.**

Ranger rubbed his eyes in exhaustion taking another drink of coke. He didn't want to drink cofee for fear of becoming hooked and dependent on the stuff.

He watched the progress on the tactical table grimly. Casualty figures were coming in and Ranger felt almost sick as he saw them. Almost two thousand were reported dead with nearly three times as many wounded and about four thousand missing in action. Almost a division sized force was out of action.

Over ten thousand men were wounded, dead, or missing and it was all on him.

"Sir," Double D reported breaking him from his vigil. "General Palmer is almost half way to the target."

Ranger nodded.

"Whats the status on our air support?"

"Forty seven percent of air forces are providing close fire support," Double D replied. "The rest are either being refueled, rearmed, or are waiting for clearance to go."

"Get Interceptors in the air pronto," Ranger ordered. "I want our gunships to have descent cover."

"Aye sir."

"Over watch any inbound bogeys from surface side?" Ranger asked.

"Negative sir, skies are clear."

"Stay sharp," he ordered. "I don't want anything getting through."

"Sir," Double D said once more piping up. "Mr. Campbell reports that ICBM is being preped."

"Tell him to buy us some more time," he ordered. "We've almost got it."

He turned back to the tactical table and grimaced.

"Come on Joe," he muttered.

**Seattle, Near the Space Needle, 2127 hours, A day +2, Lance Corporal Van Compton, 1st Vanguard Regiment, 2 Battalion, E Company, Second Platoon.**

"Leg it people come on!" Joe shouted urging them on.

They were close now running double time through the streets. The Space Needle was in sight now, towering above the buildings of the city around them.

"Lets get this damned thing over with," Dyonia growled.

They reached a point where the street was clear all the way to the Space Needle only for machine gun fire to come streaming down from the Tower top. Everyone ran for cover as rounds tore up the street. A few more Twitards were dug in around the tower base.

"Can we take that out with Air support?" Tal asked.

"Not if we want to bring the whole thing down," Joe replied.

"What the hell do we do then?" Dyonia demanded.

"We're going to have to rush it," Garlon called.

"That's suicide," Tsukune replied.

"We stay put we die," Joe said. "Charging its the only option."

"I'll try and supress the gunners," Mizore said. "Might give you a better chance."

"There's still those freaking guys on the ground," Dyonia snapped.

Then there came a roar of engines behind them and they turned to face two figures on Mabari Bikes.

"Did somebody call for the heavy cavalry?" Randwin asked.

Dyonia groaned openly.

"How are your bikes still working?" Joe asked.

"I'm an engineer on the side," Randwin replied. "Fixing a fried starters easy for me."

Tal shook his head. "Wish you could fix our blasters, EMP fried them out."

"Do you think you can clear to those fortifications before they gun us down?" Joe asked.

"We'll certainly draw their attention," Randwin replied as a few more bikers rolled up behind him.

Joe nodded grimly.

"On my signal," he ordered.

Compton gripped his lancer all the tighter.

"GO!"

The Bikes roared forward and Mizore fired. The Twitards opened up and one of the bikers fell! The Infantry charged forward screaming at the top of their lungs. The Bikes reached the enemy and smashed into them swinging swords and axes into the defenders without mercy even as another fell. Machine gun fire came down from the tower a several knights fell before Mizore's second shot silenced the gun again.

They reached the tower and brought down the elevator crowding together. Compton noted Garlon, Dyonia, Joe, Tsukue, Tal, Nikolai, Gin, Moka, the Undead, and a few others had reached the tower with him. Everyone panted heavily trying to catch their breath.

The doors opened and they poured in. The doors sealed them in, packed tight.

"We're going to be a sitting ducks in this thing," Tal muttered.

"Grenades out the moment the door opens," Joe replied. "Move fast and find cover."

They were grim and silent now standing there in the crowded elevator. The ride dragged on and on silently everyone afraid to speak. The numbers shifted towards the top.

"Ready grenades," Joe ordered.

The elevator came to a halt and the doors began to slide open.

"NOW!"

Spike grenades flew out of the elevator and exploded. Screams of agony meet them and they poured out.

Utter chaos ensued.

Compton slash his powerless lancers teeth across the face of a Twitard knocking him down and tearing him open. The fighting was close quarters, hand to hand, and brutal. He smashed his rifle into another face and unloaded a burst into the fallen body before another came at him with a knife. He blew her head open with a quick burst.

BANG!

A concussive force slammed Compton to the floor with a hard thud. The world spun around him and his eyes ached painfully.

He felt someone grabbed him by the body armor and then he felt a hard fist connect with his face.

"Get up Corporal!" Sergeant Garlon roared in his face. "Vanguard up front!"

Compton shook his head clearing his vision everyone but the two them were on the ground struggling to recover themselves.

"We've got to light the flares," Garlon snarled handing one of the sticks and pulling down a service ladder. "Come on!"

Compton scrambled after him and yanked the cap of the flare.

"Shit here comes recon!" Garlon snarled. "We've got to do this now!"

They set to work furiously trying to ignite the flares to no avail, they refused to light.

"Come on damnit!" Compton snarled. "Come on!"

The Vipers were getting closer, the roar of their engines drawing nearer and growing louder.

"LIGHT YOU FUCKER!" Compton screamed.

Finally his flare crackled to life followed closely by Garlon's. They wove them about in the air frantically and to their delight the Vipers broke off their run. Below them in the city more flares came to life all across the city, here and there until the whole city was burning with a green light.

The Knights of Trope weren't finished yet.

* * *

**Ranger24: Finally got this chapter finished! Only a few more to go! We're almost done. Read and Review.**


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Ragnarok

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Battlestar Phoenix, Knights of Trope flagship, in geosynchronous orbit over Seattle Washington, 2153 hours military time, A day +2.**

The relief Ranger felt as he watched as more Knights of Trope air units poured into the city was beginning to wear off. Though they had prevented the Nuclear assault his troops were still in a hellish combat zone in need of support and supplies.

He couldn't hold it anymore he had to get in there.

"Lars," he shouted, "you've got the ship, I'm heading ground side."

"Sir?"

"Prep Valkyrie Squadrons for launch," Ranger ordered. "There's a battle to win down there."

**Seattle-Tacoma International Air Port, Air Combat zone, Knight of Trope 14th Air Group, Viper Intercept Squadron 4, Flight Lieutenant Arica Dawnsky Call sign: "Pepper", 2201 hours, A day +2.**

Arica frowned as she did another circuit over the air field, VIS 4 was supposed to have been in the air providing support five minutes ago yet a few of the Squadron's Vipers were still on the ground.

_"Polo what's the hold up?"_ Loco asked over the radio.

_"Coolants leaking sir,"_ Polo replied. _"Mechanics are rolling me off the field to check it out."_

_"Understood,"_ Loco replied._ "Rocket get on up here, we're burning fuel and the ground pounders need some support."_

_"Roger that lead,"_ Rocket replied gunning his engines on the ground. Pepper watched as the Viper rolled down the runway and rose into the air to join up with the rest of the formation.

She turned her eyes back to Seattle, the city that was burning with red and green light.

_"Hot Rod taking off."_

They hadn't found any secret air strips for miles that could service MiGs leaving her to wonder if Axeman's killer and his fellows had taken off from somewhere inside the city.

"_Hack Saw taking off."_

She turned her eyes back down to the launching Viper's as Hack Saw, her temporary Wingman rose up to join them. It wasn't long before everyone but Polo was air borne now.

_"Lead this is Polo,"_ the pilot said grimly. _"The mechanics say they're going to have to replace my whole coolant tank. I'm grounded for this one. Over"_

_"Roger that Polo,"_ Loco replied. _"All Vipers form up on me, we're heading into the city over."_

There was a chorus of rogers, understoods, and affirmatives as the various pilots swarmed together and began to head towards the burning city in formation. The sky above the city was rapidly filling with aircraft belonging to the Knights of Trope doing everything they could to lay down a sufficient suppressive barrage upon the Twitards and ghouls. Transports were rushing about dropping off fresh radios, ammo, evacing wounded, and reinforcing squads. So long as the Knights of Trope could maintain air superiority they could still win this mess. Though the sun had gone down the sky was light from below by the flames and flares of the ground battle.

_"Skies look clear to me lead,"_ Rocket reported _"Over."_

_"I copy you Rocket,"_ Loco replied. _"Stay alert though over."_

_"Roger that."_

The CAP continued, other squadrons of Vipers passed them alert for any sign of enemy air forces. To Pepper it was infuriatingly dull.

_"Lead this is Hack Saw you copy?"_

_"I read you Hack Saw go ahead."_

_"I got a whole street full of ghouls on our left, anyone feel like a strafing run, over?"_

"I'm game," Pepper replied, "over."

_"Understood,"_ Loco growled. _"Take one pass and that's it. Reform with the squadron when you're done. Over."_

_"Copy that lead,"_ Hack Saw said. _"Pepper you ready? Over."_

"You know it Hack Saw," she replied. "Over."

They rolled over and dove towards the street in question. Pepper switched off the safeties on her cannons as they drew nearer. The street was literally packed with ghouls all stumbling about blindly. There were easily hundreds of them.

_"Shit if those things hit anyone they might not be able to stop 'em,"_ Hack Saw growled.

"Good thing we're here," Pepper replied. "I'll take lead, over."

_"I copy that Pepper, right behind you."_

With a grin she dove in on the milling ghouls and opened fire. Triple streams of 30mm rounds tore up the street shredding ghouls apart into bloody chunks. It was to easy, so pathetically easy she almost wanted to laugh. It was over all to quickly as she was forced to climb out of the city and away from the mass of ghouls. Hack Saw laughed over the radio.

"_Hot damn!_" He shouted. _"I think we just wiped out half a battalion of those freaks!"_

_"_Not much of a challenge,_"_ she replied as they circled around to get a look at their kills. More than half the ghouls in the street were now dismembered limbs and body parts scattered about.

"_If you two are done having fun get back over here,_" Loco said dryly._ "We're still on CAP, leave the rest of them to the gunships. Over."_

"Roger that lead," Pepper replied. "We're inbound on you over."

The two Viper's raced back to rejoin their fellows and quickly fell back into formation.

_"Anyone else think its to quiet up here?"_ Cantina asked.

_"Don't jinx it man,"_ Whiskers warned.

Then suddenly a bright red beam shot up from below and nailed Cantina's Viper square in the center! The pilot didn't even have time to scream before his craft exploded.

_"Shit!_" Hack Saw shouted.

_"All Vipers evasive action!_" Loco shouted as more red beams shot up towards them only for Ripper to take the next hit.

"_What the hell is shooting at us?_" Rocket demanded.

As if to answer them several massive shapes shot past them going after a group of Pelicans.

"Mobile Suits!_"_ Pepper cried out. "They've got Mobile Suits!"

_"Wort!"_ Loco snarled. _"They're in GNXs!"_

"_What the hell do we do?"_ Whiskers asked. _"We can't take Mobile Suits!_"

_"We don't have a choice,_" Loco replied as the GNXs opened fire on the Pelicans downing one. "_We've got to draw them away from the close support or the ground pounders are finished."_

"_Sir our cannons can't pierce their armor,"_ Rocket added.

"We can give them a black eye at least," Pepper replied.

_"Wort yes we can,_" Loco proclaimed. "_Let's go people!"_

**Battlestar Phoenix, Knights of Trope flagship, in geosynchronous orbit over Seattle Washington, 2224 hours military time, A day +2.**

"What?" Ranger said nearly dropping his helmet, staring in horror at the intercomm monitor.

Lars nodded._ "GNXs sir."_

"Where the hell did they get Mobile Suits like those?" Ranger demanded.

_"We don't know sir,"_ Lars replied. _"But they're going after our close air support, CAP is engaging but..."_

"Viper's are no match to Mobile Suits," Ranger muttered. "How many are there?"

_"Reports confirm nearly sixty of them sir,"_ Lars replied gravely.

Ranger cursed, who in the hell was giving the enemy this kind of hard ware?

_"What's the plan sir?_" Lars asked gravely.

"Order the Vipers to hold them off as long as they can," Ranger ordered. "Launch all Valkyrie's as soon as their ready."

_"Sir it will take three minutes for them to get there at best."_ Lars stated.

"Then whoever watches over fighter pilots had best be on our side," Ranger replied pulling on his helmet and hurrying out into the Hanger bay.

There was an air of controlled chaos as flight crews prepared the old Valkyries to go into battle. The Pilots who had been picked to fly the aging variable Mecha were scrambling into their cockpits and somewhere already taxiing to the elevators that took them to the flight deck. Ranger climbed into the Valkyrie he'd chosen to be his personal machine and quickly powered on its systems. There was a light hum as the power core came to life and the cockpit light up around him.

Ranger new the odds would be long against the GNXs even with the upgraded Valkyries. The Valkyrie was considerably smaller and even with all of their upgrades was likely slower. They were in truth out classed in almost every category except for hopefully the skill of the pilots. He knew deep down the only thing that would likely win the day for them would be the Ragnarok system.

As the cockpit sealed tight about him and the cabin and his suit pressurized his thoughts turned once more to the Viper pilots below, praying silently that they might survive.

**Seattle Air Space, Air Combat zone, Knight of Trope 14th Air Group, Viper Intercept Squadron 4, Flight Lieutenant Arica Dawnsky Call sign: "Pepper", 2226 hours, A day +2.**

_"Climb! Climb! Climb!"_

_"Come on baby! Come on!"_

_"Get them off me damnit!"_

_"Some cover me! They're all over me!"_

_"Tell my mom I love her!"_

The air space above Seattle was in utter chaos as the Knights of Trope combat air patrol desperately tried to keep the superior GNXs at bay. They had successfully drawn the Mobile Suits into a massive dog fight but now they had to survive it. Every few seconds or so another Viper or Banshee would tumble from pilot either screaming or already dead. Worse still they had yet to down a single enemy craft. 30mm was nearly useless and the GNXs shot down missiles before they could hit them.

Through it all Pepper desperately tried to keep herself and her wingman alive.

_"We need back up damnit,_" Hack Saw snarled as they rolled away from another close call with a GNX.

"_Reinforcements are on route,_" Loco barked over the radio. _"Hold them off for a little bit longer!_"

Another Banshee exploded a moment later killing its pilot instantly.

Pepper cursed and brought her Viper about looking for the killer. The GNX in question was bearing down rapidly on another Viper. With a fierce war shriek she opened up on the craft spraying it from behind with 30mm cannon fire. Most of her shots barely scratched the paint or simply bounced off the armor.

Then one struck the Solar reactor on the GNXs back and to her shock the entire Mobile Suit exploded.

"I got one!" She gaped.

_"What?"_ Loco demanded.

"I got one!" She repeated. "Everyone! Target the Reactors!"

_"Easier said than done!"_ Rocket snarled.

To her dismay Rocket was correct. The GNX pilots seemed to realize quickly just where they were weakest and compensated by tightening up formations and pressing the attack. A minute later however another GNX went down.

_"How do you like that?"_ Loco roared.

A GNX shot passed Pepper spraying fire from its particle rifle, going for Loco. She banked around and found herself perfectly in the slot to score a kill. She pulled the triggers and streams of 30mm rounds ripped into the GNX from behind. The solar reactor detonated blowing the entire mobile suit apart in an instant.

_"Thanks for the save Pepper,"_ he said.

"No problem lead," she replied.

_"Two Mobile Suits?"_ Hack Saw said over the radio. _"You might just be the best pilot up-"_

There was an explosion off Pepper's left wing. She saw Hack Saw's burning Viper tumble out of the sky and worst of all, Hack Saw's burning body flailing about inside his cockpit. A GNX shot passed her and deftly turned about to fire on her. Cursing Pepper preformed an evasive roll and deftly evaded the blasts. The GNX shot towards her and she gunned her engines rocketing away, trying to gain some distance.

The GNX followed her however sending blasts of particle beams after her. She dove, hoping to gain some cover in the city but the GNX stayed on her.

"Someone get this bastard off me!" She shouted angrily.

_"Can anyone help Pepper?"_ Loco asked.

_"Negative sir!"_

_"I've got to many on me!"_

_"I'm hit! Jesus I'm hit!"_

She cursed again weaving her way through the buildings distantly aware of the fighting going on below her. She knew from the blasts her pursuer was still on her tail. She had to end this, right now.

She took a gamble and pulled up, going into a screaming, high G climb. She rocketed up, one eye on her engine temperature gauge. She shunted coolant and allowed her engine temp to steadily climb. A glance over her shoulder confirmed that the GNX was still on her, trying to get a bead for the kill shot.

"Bastard,_"_ she growled. "You're the same one who killed Axe Man aren't you?"

The GNX fired on her again with its particle weapon, missing her by the slimiest of margins. She glanced back at the temperature gauge as alert klaxons sounded.

_"_Well here I come," she snarled.

Her engines emergency shutdown system engaged. Her Viper hung for a moment in the air and the GNX flashed past her. Then she tumbled from the sky altitude alerts screaming at her. She triggered her maneuvering thrusters, forcing her nose up. She was now clearly sighted in on the GNXs reactor.

"Burn in hell!" She shouted opening fire.

30mm rounds tore through the sky and tore into the reactor. In a beautiful bright red fire ball the GNX blew apart. She laughed to her self in delight.

The altitude alerts broke her from her brief joy. She was falling like a rock towards the city below. The engine temperature was still in the danger zone even as she reengaged the coolant systems. She restarted the engines and felt a massive wave of Negative G forces smash into her briefly blinding her. The alerts stopped however leveled off her Viper. Her sight recovered quickly enough.

What she saw didn't encourage her.

The Vipers were almost wiped out, the GNXs were simply to powerful. Even as she shot to rejoin the battle yet another Viper tumbled from the sky. This was a damned slaughter.

_"All Vipers this is Watcher Lead,"_ a young male voice suddenly said._ "Break off, we've got this."_

**Seattle Air Space, Air Combat zone, Knight of Trope Battlestar Phoenix Air Group, Watcher Valkyrie Super S Squadron, Commander Ranger, Watcher 1, 2228 hours, A day +2.**

As they shot towards the raging battle over Seattle Ranger grimaced. The Vipers had almost been wiped out for little return. Those that were left were badly out numbered.

"All Vipers this is Watcher Lead," he said arming his weapons. "Break off, we've got this.."

_"Sir,"_ Gold Digger Lead, one of the other squadron leaders said. _"I'm not sure how long we'll last against those GNXs. Over."_

"We'll do better than the Vipers," Ranger replied checking the charge on the Ragnarok Drive.

He cursed to himself, only fifty percent charged.

"Commence fire on my mark," he ordered, "drive them away from Vipers and keep them off the Gunships. Over."

There was a chorus of Aye ayes and copy thats. Ranger's targeting computer then reported a missile lock on several GNXs.

"Fire!"

The Valkyries unleashed their famous massed missile barrages, hundreds of missiles were sent streaming towards their targets. To Ranger's dismay the GNXs became aware of the missiles and opened up on them. A full half of the missiles were destroyed before they closed the distance. Two thirds of those that were left missed. A grand total of seventeen percent hit their targets most doing little damage. Still five GNXs were flaming balls of wreckage and the Vipers were clear to make a run for it.

Now however the GNXs were aware of the Valkyries and retaliated. A wave of red particle beams shot up to meet them!

"Evasive action!" Ranger shouted.

The Valkyries rolled, dove, and climbed to evade the counter attack but for all their efforts three of their own were destroyed. The GNXs moved into engage them closer up.

_"Sir we can't take them in close quarters,_" Gold Digger Lead reported.

"Try to run through them," Ranger ordered. "Get down to the deck and see if they can dance."

_"Roger that."_

The Valkyries shot to meet the GNXs head on with both sides firing on each other. Another GNX went down at the cost of three more Valkyries. They closed and several of the GNXs attacked in melee. Their chosen targets hastily transformed thier machines and were forced to grapple with enemies several meters taller than themselves. Most that did ended up as flaming wreckage.

Still through it all the bulk of the Valkyries managed to dive past the GNXs and made for the city. The GNXs turned and tore after them weapons blazing. Another Valkyrie tumbled down from the sky before they reached the cover of the city. Now however they had to check their speed and most had to transform to avoid crashing. The GNXs used this brief pause to close the distance and dive into the city to face them.

Ranger soon found himself set upon by one GNX which came at him from above. He had already transformed and brought up his Valkyries rifle and fired. The GNX deftly evaded his shot and came on with its lance like weapon ready to strike. Ranger forced his Valkyrie to jump back just in time to avoid being impaled and then shot the enemy machine at point blank. The GNX exploded tearing a chunk out of a nearby apartment buildings siding.

He checked the charge gauge for the Ragnarok drive. It was now at sixty seven percent. The comm system however was alive with Valkyrie pilots calling for help and struggling to fend off their opponents. With a grimace Ranger transformed his Valkyrie back into Fighter mode and took off, seeking new foes.

**Seattle, Down town, 2229 hours, A day +2, General Joe Palmer, 1st Vanguard Regiment, 2 Battalion, E Company, Second Platoon, Speacil Strike Team Codename Texas.**

Another ghoul fell to a blast from Joe's shot gun. He checked his magazine, only about a dozen shells left. A quick look around confirmed that those with him were not much better off. They were exhausted, low on supplies, and watching their only life line barely staying alive above them.

Case in point a Valkyrie exploded above them and smashed into the side of a building. Its killer flew past to seek new victims.

"Just how much more can those things take?" Gin muttered.

"How much more can we take?" Garlon growled.

Joe grimaced, they both had very painful points. Without air support there was no way they could win the fight on the ground. If the escorts and the Valkyries got wiped out the air cover would be massacred, and they would follow soon after.

Another Valkyrie shot passed them followed closely by yet another GNX, spraying particle beam fire.

"Can't we do something about those things?" Tsukune asked.

"Not vith small arms," Nikolai replied.

"There's bound to be something around we can fight back with," Tal said.

Joe nodded.

"Let's keep moving," he said. "Eyes peeled for anything that might be able to kill a Mobile Suit."

They continued their advance down the street and rounded a bend into another brief fire fight. Given their numbers, the fire fight was over rather quickly. They went on and shot up a small crowd of ghouls before they came to what looked to be a school. There in the yard was a downed Pelican that several Twitards were opening up on and about which were piled several dozen burning corpses.

"Looks like we've got friendlies in trouble," Garlon growled.

"Let's move up and bail them out then," Joe replied.

They opened up on the Twitards catching them from behind. The Twitards, caught off guard by the sudden assault were cut down quickly.

"Fan out. Secure the area," Joe ordered while he moved up with Nikolai, Gin, Dyonia, and Tal to the downed Pelican.

"Anybody in there?" Dyonia call.

There was no reply.

"This General Palmer," Joe said. "All hostiles are down its safe to come out."

Tentatively several figures emerged from the Pelican. They were dressed in armored robes and held staffs or short maces rather than fire arms.

"Mages," Gin muttered.

"Thank god you all showed up when you did," the closest one said a look of tired relief on his face. "We were almost completely exhausted."

"Whats the situation?" Joe asked. "You got wounded?"

The lead mage shook his head.

"No," he said sadly. "Pilots died on impact when the EMP hit and our Guardian was killed in the fighting."

"You got anything on board we can use?" Tal asked. "We need ammo and supplies."

The Mage frowned.

"Well we do have some heavy weapons in the Pelican," he said. "But they got fried in the EMP."

As if on cue Randwin pulled up behind them on his bike, smirking.

"I might be able to fix that," he replied. "What are we talking about?"

The mage motioned them to follow him into the Pelican. There, knocked to the floor by the crash were four M6 Grindell/Galilean Nonlinear Rifle. AKA Spartan lasers.

Joe grinned.

**Seattle Air Space, Air Combat zone, Knight of Trope Battlestar Phoenix Air Group, Watcher Valkyrie Super S Squadron, Commander Ranger, Watcher 1, 2233 hours, A day +2.**

Ranger cursed as he was forced to land yet again and transform to face his enemies. Not one but two GNXs were on him weapons blazing. He forced his machine around a corner for cover as Particle beams slash up the school at the end of the street. He could see out of the corner of his eye ground troops scrambling for cover and a downed Pelican. Once again he cursed. Now he had to keep the GNXs from tearing apart the infantry.

He slipped out of cover and fired a retaliatory burst, forcing one of the GNXs to back off a little to avoid damage. As he did however his rifle magazine clicked empty, he was out of ammo in everything but his missiles and air Machine guns. A glance to the Ragnarok gauge gave a slight flash of hope, ninety seven percent charged.

The GNXs fired again forcing him back into cover and he stowed away the rifle. He instead drew forth a special weapon made for his own Valkyrie. The Massive melee weapon was a custom version of the chain axes he had out fitted to the majority of the Valkyries. A huge MVS Great Axe meant for carving up hard armored targets. If he could get close enough to use it, or just keep them at bay long enough for the drive to finish charging...

_"Ranger!"_ Joe's voice called through his radio, jolting him from his thoughts. _"That you in there?"_

"Joe?" Ranger asked surprised. "Where are you?"

_"I'm in the Pelican in the school yard,"_ Joe answered._ "Listen, we've got ourselves a little something that might help against those GNXs."_

"What do you mean?" Ranger asked.

"_Just draw them closer to the school,"_ Joe replied. _"We'll do the rest."_

"Roger."

Ranger drove his Valkyrie out of cover and made a feint at a charge with the axe. The GNXs opened up on him and he retreated back into cover moving towards the school. The GNXs pursued eager for a kill.

_"Just a bit closer,"_ Joe muttered.

"_We'll draw them in sir,"_ a harsh orc voice said.

Ranger several figure opening up with assault rifles on the GNXs. The fire that would have easily killed infantry was useless however against the armored GNXs. Still the GNXs moved in closer.

"Joe," Ranger growled.

_"One second,_" Joe replied.

The GNXs moved in for the kill raising their weapons!

"Joe!" Ranger shouted.

_"Firing!"_

Four bright red angry beams slammed into the lead GNX obliterating its main weapon and tearing up its right arm. It pulled back for a second before a second volley tore off its head!

"_Die you ugly bastard!_" Joe shouted.

The second GNX moved up to try and cover its partner only to be ripped apart by another volley which tore open its chest. The whole thing detonated showering its partner with wreckage. Ranger struck then driving his axe into the GNXs torso ripping its cockpit open and turning the pilot into bloody mulch.

_"How do you like that?"_ Joe laughed.

"Thanks for the assist Joe," Ranger said with a small sigh of relief.

_"Afraid that's about it for these Spartan lasers though,_" Joe replied. "_Only two more shots in them."_

"Fall back for now and await extraction," Ranger said.

_"What about you?_" Joe asked.

Ranger glanced at the Ragnarok gauge and grinned.

"Its time for a little pay back," he replied.

"_Understood."_

Ranger transformed back into fighter mode and shot back into the air. A few GNXs clearly spotted him and were now moving to intercept.

"All Valkyrie's," he said. "Let's send these bastards to hell."

_"About time sir,_" Gold Digger lead replied.

"Activate Ragnarok!" Ranger shouted.

Ranger flipped the switch that engaged the drive and instantly every single system on his Valkyrie slammed into the red zone. The Drive core was screaming behind him cranking out three hundred and fifty percent of its usual power out put. The Valkyrie screamed forward more than doubling its speed. He activated the targeting system and within a second he had missile locks.

He fired and a stream of missiles roared forth from his aircraft. The GNXs barely seemed to notice what was happening before they were torn apart by the barrage. It seemed as though the Ragnarok Drive even improved weapons damage. Four kills in less than a second was most amusing.

He glanced down to see the Valkyries turning their wrath upon the GNXs and introducing them to the Grim Reaper. The Valkyries were literally tearing the GNXs apart with their bear hands and their weapons. It was a complete one eighty flip and the GNXs were now on the run trying desperately to get away from the vicious assault by the Valkyries. It was bloody vengeance for the Valkyries.

Then Ranger's comm system came to life.

_"Sir! We've got a problem!"_ Lars shouted.

"Spill it XO," Ranger replied leveling off.

_"We're under attack up here!"_

"What?"

"_They're attacking the Fleet!"_


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Burning stars

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Sol System, Earth, Battlestar Phoenix, Knights of Trope flagship, in geosynchronous orbit over Seattle Washington, 2236 hours military time, A day +2.**

It often boogles the mind to imagen a battle in space. To view it is a remarkable and terrifying thing. To see vessels that dwarf their sea based counterparts engage at distances of hundreds of kilometers with heavy artillery and single ships. To experince it and live is another thing all together.

When the Twitard fleet dropped into the Sol system and engaged the Knights of Trope battle group it did so with shocking speed. The fleet was only a dozen ships strong; four Musai-class Light cruisers and eight Venator-class Star Destroyer. In their hey day these ships would have made an imposing fleet, bristling with turbolasers and particle cannons. The Twitards however had recieved them second hand from their generous benefactor. There were patches of hull plating missing and some sections had occasional power or life support failures.

The most important thing to the Twitards however were that the propulsion, fighter launch, and weapons systems remained functional. As the three battlestars soon discovered the Twitards had gotten their monies worth. Old though they were they were still deadly.

The moment they arrived fighters began streaming from the launch bays while the heavy guns opened up on the Knights of Trope battle group. Not for nothing however were the Knights of Trope prepared. Shields were already raised and the three Battlestars began moving into firing position for their main guns, launching their own single ships to join their out numbered CAP.

A proud force of over three hundred single ships roared forth from the three Battlestars to enter battle. Against them however was a massive force of over three thousand fighters from the Venators alone. Most of these aircraft were drone operated rather than crewed and piloted but sheer numbers they hoped would make up the difference in skill. Out numbered so vastly the Knights of Trope Pilots were forced to assume a defensive posture and wait for anti air fire from the Battlestars to thin the enemies numbers.

The Musai's would take the first blow charging in a head of the lumbering Venators. Dwarfed by the massive Battlestars they still unleashed barrages of particle cannon fire trying to soften the enemies shields and draw the fire of the Knights of Trope gunners. It worked, though the Musai's skeleton crews never found that out. Mac blasts from the forward gunnery banks of the Battlestars obliterated all but one of them quickly. The last quickly went down from combined fire by the three.

They had bought time however for the Venators to begin closing the distance between the two groups of ships. The stratagem was simple, close to a distance where the Battlestars MAC guns would be ineffective. In practice, it would cost them.

The single ships engaged now, unleashing streams of fire on each other. The Battlestars let loose a wall of white hot molten metal to even the odds for their side downing nearly a third of the enemy craft within a minute. The Knights of Trope however soon found their own losses beginning to climb towards the triple digit mark.

The Venators plowed on, taking a withering hail of fire from the Battlestars. Despite their grievous wounds they closed the distance and began to face the battlestars muzzle to muzzel in a near Napoleonic artillery duel.

In all of the chaos no one noticed a single shuttle slip aboard one of the Venators, with precious cargo aboard.

**Sol System, Earth, Knights of Trope Battlestar Phoenix Air Group, Watcher Valkyrie Super S Squadron, Commander Ranger, Watcher 1, 2238 hours, A day +2.**

As the Valkyrie's shot towards space Ranger took a moment to check his systems. No serious damage to anything important, ammunition at forty percent, fuel at forty one percent, power systems were at acceptable levels considering the usage of the Ragnorok Drive, and Communications were still functional. A head count confirmed at least two thirds of the Valkyries deployed to Seattle hard survived the engagement.

As G forces pinned him against his seat he focused his attention skyward. Very soon he could see pin pricks of light and flashes that were most definitely not stars. As they drew nearer the battle in orbit came into sharper focus.

The three Battlestars were still intact and still returning fire at the enemy. Two of the Venators were already breaking up a third was beginning to nose into the atmosphere. Fighters from both sides were clashing still as they approached and Ranger cleared his guns.

"Phoenix Actual this is Watcher Leader, I need a situation report stat," he said.

_"Two enemy ships destroyed,"_ Lars answered. "_One dropping into the atmosphere on no power, one has lost its bridge, one has been disarmed of anything but point defense, one has lost power to engines, and one has taken sever damage. Phoenix, Revan, and Kamina, shields are all down. Kamina has taken sever engine damage and is immobilized. Revan has taken heavy damage to flight pods and will not be able to recover fighters. Phoenix has suffered moderate damage to several sections and we have a breach in the cargo bay but no systems have been compromised."_

"Have we located which ship Cullen is on?" Ranger asked.

_"Negative but only one of the enemy Venators is in any condition to jump."_

"High light it on my display," Ranger ordered.

A moment later a red marker appeared on a Venator that was steadily moving away from the still raging battle.

"That's got to be it," Ranger said. "All Valkyries, on me we're going after high lighted enemy ships. Primary target are the engines."

Several acknowledgement lights flashed green as the Valkyrie's rocketed "up" into the battle. Almost immediately several dozen V-wing star fighters moved in on an intercept course. The V-wings were nimble, small, and fast, rapidly closing the distance to engage them and opening fire.

"Gold Digger," Ranger said, "take you group and draw those bastards off us."

_"I copy Watcher Lead,"_ Gold Digger Lead answered.

Gold Digger's Valkyrie broke off to engage retaliating against the V-wings with missiles and cannon fire. The Valkyrie were thankfully doing far better than their opponents though they were moving somewhat more sluggishly than their opponents. The side effects of the Ragnarok Drive were thankfully currently minor.

Ranger focused in on the approach vector for the Venator that was trying to make a break for it. It appeared to be aware of them now, sending waves of fighters and point defense laser fire. Ranger armed his missile systems and waited a moment for his targeting systems to acquire a lock. Then he fired off another volley of missiles and watched with satisfaction as a quarter of the interceptors exploded. Other Valkyries used their own volleys to take out more interceptors quickly clearing the path.

Now the only thing left was the massive wave of incoming point defense weapons fire.

"Take Evasive action," Ranger ordered. "Target the engines, then the bridge."

Acknowledgement lights flashed and the Valkyries spread out rolling and swerving away from the incoming laser fire. Ranger found it rather amusing how useless the Venator's point defense weapons were as every single shot missed them. Venator's relied to much on fighter support to deal with enemy single ships rather than a Battlestar.

Within a minute Ranger was locking onto the engines and letting rip another stream of missiles. One or two of his missiles were destroyed in flight by the rest hit home blowing apart one of the two main engines and disabling a maneuvering thruster. Seconds late more missiles tore into the read of the Venator and the engines exploded nearly tearing the Venator's rear section.

He "climbed up" and shot through the gap between the bridges the rest of his Valkyries close behind. Several took shots at the bridges with their cannons to the modest effect. Then they pulled an Immelmann turn and then loosed yet another stream of missiles. Ranger watched with satisfaction as the Venator's bridges exploded into flames and wreckage.

"Phoenix Actual," Ranger said, "this is Watcher Leader. Venator is dead in the water."

"_Nice job sir,_" Lars replied.

"Don't let up," Ranger ordered. "We're not done until all hostiles are destroyed."

_"Copy that sir."_

**Seattle, Down town, 2245 hours, A day +2, General Joe Palmer, 1st Vanguard Regiment, 2 Battalion, E Company, Second Platoon, Special Strike Team Codename Texas.**

Joe frowned as he watched their ride close in on them. The fighting was starting to die down now, most of the remaining Twitards were either retreating or in some rare cases surrendering. The ground battle was essentially over.

"I can't wait to get a nice hot bath," Dyonia said. "After a decent drink."

"A nice chilled one," Randwin agreed. "Can't have a decent drink if its not cold."

"Maybe the Port stuff you Elves make," Garlon replied. "Or a glass of water. I'll take something stronger."

"Vodka," Nikolai said eagerly. "I will buy comerades! Hell Vodka all around!"

"But we can't drink," Tsukune object.

"You can't buy," Dyonia said slyly.

"You do know I can hear you guys right?" Joe asked.

"Oh you won't turn us in," Randwin said with a wave of his hand. "Would you?"

"Maybe," Joe replied.

Then he sighed.

"I'm going up top," he said.

"Pardon?" Gin asked.

"The fights not over yet," Joe replied. "Still going on up there. I'm not sure what I can do in a space battle.

He turned to face them with a grimace.

"But I'll be damned if I don't do something to help up there," he said.

"You do realize that its not much of a ground pounders war up there?" Garlon growled.

"I'm not asking anyone to come with me," Joe replied. "I'm just going up to see if I can do anything."

Silence fell upon them all for a moment.

"I'll come with you," Mizore said stepping forwards.

Joe smiled at her.

"Me to," Tsukune added.

"Same here," Moka agreed.

"You can't leave us out," Garlon growled while Compton nodded.

"I've got a few debts to pay with those Twitard bastards," Tal added stepping forward followed by Weblade.

They turned to the three elves then.

"Oh no you don't," Dyonia said. "No way you're guilt tripping me into joining you guys on this crazy mess."

"Oh come on," Randwin said stepping forwards.

"We'll never here the end of it," Raenar replied joining his brother.

Dyonia cursed and then stepped forward to join them.

"I guess I should say thank you," Joe admitted.

"We had better be getting paid over time for this," Dyonia growled.

A moment later the transport a MV-03 Dragonfire Gunship pulled up and came to a stop before them. The cockpit opened to reveal a single Sangheili.

"Palmer?" He called.

"Rolo'mono?" He asked in surprise. "I thought you'd be up with the rest of Phoenix's pilots?"

"I couldn't resist helping down here," Rolo'mono replied. "Of course in my hurry I kind of forget to grab gunners."

"We can handle that," Joe said. "We're not going back to base though. If there's a fight going I want to be there."

Rolo'mono nodded.

"I understand," he replied. "I need someone up here with my in cockpit to man the missile launchers and the Gauss cannons."

"I'll see what I can do," Joe said. "Everyone else in back and seal your suits up."

"Do we have to?" Nikolai complained. "Those masks smell terrible."

"That would be your vodka breath," Gin replied with a roll of his eyes.

"Oh sure laugh at da Russian," Nikolai growled. "No Vodka for you."

"Can we please move?" Rolo'mono asked. "I'd rather be on the ground as little as possible."

They clambered aboard with Joe taking the seat directly behind Rolo'mono. He pulled on his helmet seal that would pressurize his body armor. The moment he was locked down he stored his AA-12 and M4A1 on either side of seat. The console before was a holographic display which would alter itself depending on which weapon system he was using. It was a pretty simple to operate system with aim assist and target finding software installed.

"You okay back there?" Rolo'mono asked as he sealed his own helmet.

"I'll be alright," Joe answered. "Just hoping I don't accidentally nuke Canada on the way up or somethin'."

"We don't have any nuclear ordinance aboard," Rolo'mono replied. "I can understand your concern though."

"We're all set back here sir," Garlon reported. "Everyone's sealed up and we've got Compton and Aono on the port and starboard fifties."

"Understood," Joe said. "Tell everyone to hold onto something. This may get a little bit bumpy."

"Oh joy," Dyonia replied her voice dripping with sarcasm.

With a muffled cough the Dragonfire lifted off the ground and then began to rise above the city streets.

"I'm going to leave the weapons systems off until we need them," Rolo'mono said. "Saves power that way."

"Good idea," Joe replied.

They cleared the sky scrapers and began to steadily climb upwards.

"Arming boosters," Rolo'mono said. "Switching to external power cells."

"Anything I need to do?" Joe asked.

"Switch the power cell draw," Rolo'mono replied. "Orange switch on your left."

Joe nodded and flipped the switch.

"External power cells activated," Rolo'mono reported. "Sealing the bay and depressurizing."

Joe gripped the edges of his seat tightly and hoped his straps would hold him well enough.

"Activating boosters in five," Rolo'mono said. "Four, three, two, one. Ignition!"

The engines roared to life and Joe was pressed hard against his seat his face scrunching up in discomfort. The Dragonfire was rising faster and faster towards the stars.

"Breaking the Atmosphere in thirty," Rolo'mono reported after a minute. "Stand by."

There was brief lurch and then Joe felt the G forces release. He rubbed his helmeted head.

"Everyone okay back there?" He asked.

"Fine," Mizore replied.

"Says you!" Randwin replied angrily.

"What happened?" Joe asked.

"Just someone being an overly reactive brother," Dyonia replied.

"Got it," Joe said. "I don't need the details."

"Heads up Palmer," Rolo'mono said drawing Joe's attention back to the Sanghelli pilot. "We've got contacts nine o'clock high."

Joe followed Rolo'mono's directions and saw the battle raging above. Four Venator's were coming apart while a fifth was breaking up in the atmosphere due to repeated hits. The remaining three Venators however were engaging at point blank distances with the three Battlestars, barely kilometers apart.

"We've got to get in there," he said.

"Affirmative," Rolo'mono replied. "I'm powering weapons."

Joe nodded as his display came to life with the holographic targeting system online. Even at the extreme ranges the system was already picking out targets from the massive dog fight, calculating their trajectory, speed, and distance and giving him the best possible target points. Still he kep his hands off the triggers for the moment, it would be next to useless to shot into a dogfight from this range.

"Moving to attack vector," Rolo'mono reported. "We're being hailed."

"Patch it to me," Joe ordered.

Rolo'mono nodded and pressed a button.

"_Dragonfire 041 you entering a combat zone, landings are not advised at this time, please break off,_" Double D's voice said.

"Phoenix this is Texas," Joe replied. "Looks to me like you need all of the help you can get."

_"One moment,"_ Double D said. _"Connecting you to Watcher Leader."_

_"Joe what the hell are you doing up here?"_ Ranger demanded.

"Lending a hand," Joe replied as they closed rapidly on the battle. "You can fire me later if you don't like it."

"_Acknowledged,"_ Ranger said with an annoyed sigh. _"Since your up here you might as well put that bird of yours to good use."_

"What do you suggest?" Joe asked.

_"We've got a Venator tearing into the Revan with its turbolasers,"_ Ranger replied. _"They won't last much longer against the bombardment. Take out the Venators main guns and you'll save a lot of lives."_

"What about fighters?" Rolo'mono asked joining in the call.

"Ignore them as best as you can," Ranger replied,_ "leave them to us. Just take out those guns."_

"Copy that," Joe said.

_"Sending you the target data,"_ Ranger said.

A moment later several new marks appeared on Joe's display.

_"Good hunting Texas,_" Ranger said. "_Watcher Leader out."_

Joe nodded as the transmission ended.

"You heard him," Joe said to Rolo'mono. "Get us there."

"On it," Rolo'mono replied.

The Sangheili pilot flew the Dragonfire up into the battle. Fighters from both sides swarmed around them firing wildly. Rolo'mono weaved and evaded through the mass of ships as Tsukune and Compton opened up with the fifties.

"Jesus they're everywhere!" Compton shouted.

"Can't get them," Tsukune reported.

"Keep it together," Joe ordered. "Just kill anything that looks at us funny."

As if on cue an ARC 170 came diving "down" towards them, main cannons flashing. Joe fired the Gauss cannons and watched as the fighter erupted into fiery ruin. The Dragonfire swerved out of the way of the wreckage just in time to avoid the worst of it.

"That was a bit to close," Joe muttered.

"What was that?" Mizore asked.

"Nothing," Joe replied quickly.

They shot out above the clashing fighters and the warships. Rolo'mono leveled them off and then tilted them over to face the flaring turbolasers. The Revan was taking a pounding, its flight pods in flames. Many of its cannons had fallen silent either destroyed or disabled with only a few still returning fire as the Venator hammered it from behind.

"Here we go," Rolo'mono said grimly.

"Locking on," Joe replied.

The Dragonfire dove towards the Venator and Joe opened fire with a stream of missiles. Half of the DBY-827 heavy dual turbolaser turrets closest to the Revan exploded into flaming wreckage. They came under fire and Rolo'mono began to break off. Joe switched to the Gauss cannons and quickly fired off six shots.

"Can we confirm hits?" He asked as they shot back towards the Revan.

"All guns destroyed," Tsukune reported. "Nice shooting Joe."

Joe allowed himself a small smile.

"One for the good guys," he said.

"Hey what the heck going on with that one by the Phoenix?" Compton asked.

Joe followed Compton's direction and saw to surprise that the Venator closest to the Phoenix opening its massive hanger bay. Then out came dozens of gunships rising out into the battle and heading straight towards the Battlestar.

"Shit they're trying board the Phoenix!" Joe exclaimed. "Ranger you seeing this?"

"_I see it,_" Ranger replied. _"All wings protect the Phoenix, intercept those transports, Cullen's got to be on board!"_

"What?" Joe asked.

"All of the Venators are crippled," Rolo'mono explained. "The only way Cullen can escape us is to steal one of our FTL Capable ships. The Phoenix is the only ship still able to move properly or launch fighters."

"Get us there!" Joe ordered.

Even as they shot towards the Battlestar the Gunships broke through the defenses of fighters and guns. They began landing in the hanger bays, at least a dozen or so to a hanger.

"_Phoenix actual to Watcher Leader,"_ Lars reported. "_We've got hostiles in the flight pods! We're trying to repel them but there's easily two companies of them!"_

"_Keep them out of weapons and damage control,"_ Ranger ordered._ "Disable the FLT drive if you have to."_

_"Got it,"_ Lars replied. "_They're closing the hanger bays!"_

Joe cursed as his eyes confirmed Lars statement. The Phoenix's flight pods were retracting into the protective armor of the ship.

"Rolo, gun it!" He barked.

"What?" Rolo'mono exclaimed.

"Get us in there now!" Joe ordered.

"Sir..."

"Now!"

"Yes sir!"

The Dragonfire accelerated to definitely unsafe speeds even as their only way onto the ship became narrower and narrower.

"Everyone hang on back there," Joe called. "Brace for impact!"

At the very last possible moment they shot into the hanger, the wings sheared off by the narrow passage. Alarm klaxons screamed at them and red warning lights flashed furiously as the Dragonfire hit the deck. The gunship bounce, flipped clean over, slammed into the deck again, scrapping against the plating, until at last it tipped back over and came to a solid halt. By some miracle they were right side up.

Joe meanwhile was nursing a painfully bruised shoulder spitting out a stream of choice curses.

"I certainly hope this doesn't become a trend," Rolo'mono said grimly.

"Everyone okay?" Joe asked.

"Some bruises that's all," Mizore replied. "We're fine other wise."

"_Joe are you okay?"_ Ranger asked frantically.

"We're good," Joe answered. "We're aboard."

_"Right,"_ Ranger said in relieved tone. "_You've got to stop Cullen from taking the ship or escaping on one of other ships."_

"I know," Joe replied as Rolo'mono kicked the cockpit open.

_"Good hunting Texas,"_ Ranger said grimly. _"God speed."_

**Battlestar Phoenix**, **Knights of Trope flagship, 2303 hours, A day +2, Lance Corporal Van Compton, 1st Vanguard Regiment, 2 Battalion, E Company, Second Platoon.**

Compton collected his Lancer from its bracing where he had placed it for the flight. It was intact, no visible damage, good. Unlike the gun turret he had been using his rifle still worked just fine. Everyone else was collecting their own weapon or tending to whatever minor injuries they had sustained in the crash courteous of Medic Weblade's cynical care.

"Its fine," Moka said brushing off the Forsaken as he tried to tend to her.

"That's what you say now," he said. "But I, unlike you, can stitch my limbs back on."

"And the level of creepy you produce just goes up and up," Tsukune muttered.

"Stow it," Garlon growled as he and Raenar forced the cargo hatches open. The flight deck was littered with wreckage of their violent crash and a handful of enemy gunships that they had narrowly avoid.

"Doesn't look like anyone's home," Dyonia commented.

"Sloppy," Joe said joining them with Rolo'mono who had armed himself with a carbine. "Maybe we'll get the drop on them."

"Where are the service lifts?" Tal asked.

"Follow me," Joe said drawing his shot gun and taking point.

They crept through the mass of gun ships until they reached wall closest to the rest of the Phoenix. There in the armor plating was an elevator with thick blast doors.

"Technicians use these to deal with damage to the flight deck," Joe explained. "Helps us out doesn't it."

"No it doesn't," Dyonia stepping forwards and pointing to a panel beside the door. Exposed wires were sparking in it and the burn marks around it confirmed their fears.

"Bastards disabled the elevator," Joe cursed.

"Can we force it open?" Tal asked.

"Negative," Joe answered. "Their meant to hold off an anti capital ship missile."

"Is there any other way down?" Tsukune asked.

"The maintenance access shafts," Joe said after a moment. "Their the fall back in case the elevators broken."

"Thank goodness for redundancies," Mizore quipped.

"Spread out and look for them," Joe ordered.

They fanned out along the wall trying to find their way into the ship.

"Found one," Randwin reported over the radio.

They hurried over to him and found the Blood Elf twisting the crank on a small door just wide enough for them to squeeze through one at a time. He got it free and and the small shaft was now open.

"If we go in single file we'll get massacred," Tal growled.

"Find more," Joe ordered. "They won't open on the other end if they aren't closed on the other."

"Who gets this one?" Garlon asked.

"You and Compton," Joe replied. "Get in there and seal it behind yourselves. Wait for my signal to go."

"Roger that," Garlon said while Compton snapped off a quick salute.

"Everyone keep looking," Joe ordered.

As Compton and Garlon hurried down into the cramped shaft the others fanned out to search for more hatches. Once they were both inside Garlon closed the hatch on them, sealing them inside the shaft.

"Take point Compton," Garlon said. "Final push."

Compton nodded and began to climb down. It was a short trip and he soon found himself at a hatch similar to the one above. He waited by it as Garlon came down after him.

"Wait for the go," Garlon growled pulling back the slid on his M6S and hefting his axe.

"All teams report," Joe ordered about a minute later.

"Randwin and Raenar ready," Randwin reported.

"Dyonia and Weblade ready," Dyonia reported.

"Gin and Tsukune ready," Gin reported.

"Moka and Mizore ready," Moka reported.

"Garlon and Compton ready,"Garlon reported.

"Tal ready," the Mandolorian reported.

"Alright," Joe said heavily. "Take it slow. Wait for my signal to open fire. Do not fire otherwise unless fired upon."

"Got it," they all replied.

There was a moments silence.

"Go."

Compton opened the hatch. He and Garlon slipped out of the shaft taking shelter quickly behind a stack of Communications drones for Raptors. The hanger deck was strewn with bodies, some members of the crew others twitards. The sounds of fighting could be heard from other parts of the ship, distant echoing gun fire.

In the center of the deck however were over two dozen deck crew on their knees with their hands firmly behind their heads being watched by ten Twitards and a single man walking about without a shirt on. He was tan skinned, with dark hair and an impressive build that would have likely been eye candy for teenaged girls. In his hands however was a blood stained .44 magnum.

"General we have eyes on possible high value target can you confirm?" Garlon hissed.

"I see him Sergeant," Joe replied. "That is Jacob."

"Rules of engagement?" Tal asked.

"Watch fire," Joe said. "Pick a target and shoot on my go."

Then Jacob shot one of the tech crew in the head!

"Sir they're killing prisoners!" Randwin exclaimed.

"Well then lets not let that happen again," Joe snarled.

Then as one they stood up and opened fire. The Twitards watching the guards crumbled under sustained fire but Jacob turned and ran, moving in humanly fast.

"Target is mobile!" Compton reported.

"I'm on him!" Gin shouted.

Then Gin bounded forward on all fours. He tore of his helm and before their eyes transformed into his true lycanthropic state. He howled at Jacob as more Twitards stormed in opening up on the rest of the squad. The Prisoners ran for cover as Texas layed down suppressing fire on the new arrivals.

Jacob however turned now to face Gin and transformed as well to face him. The two werewolves charged one another and collided in mid air snapping and snarling, striking with tooth and claw with blinding speed.

The rest of the squad meanwhile was trying to down as many hostiles as they could so that they could assist Gin in the battle with on of the central targets of the entire operation. Compton downed two with head shots while Garlon cut down another with his axe who tried to close to melee. Dyonia's explosive bolts killed three with a single shot while her brothers got two a piece with their pistols. Mizore turned some leaking fuel into a spike which impaled when fool who had been standing over a puddle. Weblade got one with a head shot. Tal's precise fire downed four himself while Tsukune and Moka got three to split. Nikolai's drunken shooting would have usually been a hazard but combined with Rolo'mono's aim they got four kills each. Joe however bagged a half dozen with his assault rifle alone.

Even as the Twitards thinned out however Jacob kicked a battered Gin off him and charged towards Garlon. The Orc sergeant roared a challenge and swung his axe at the Werewolf only to miss by inches. Jacob knocked him to the ground and jumped on him bearing his teeth to tear out the struggling sergeants throat.

Pure instinct took over. Compton found himself charging towards Gin, bringing up his Lancer, and pulling back on the activation switch. The weapon coughed for half a second before roaring to life in a whirling of deadly sharp teeth. He smashed into the werewolf with his shoulder and then brought his saw down in an arc.

Whirling metal teeth meet flesh and metal teeth won carving into the Werewolf's shoulder. Blood sprayed across Compton's face mask and chips of bone bounced off his body armor. Jacob howled in agony trying in vain to bite at him, to slash him, to stab him but Compton put his weight into the blow. He tore through muscle, tendons, veins, bones, organs, and at last clean through the werewolf. His chainsaw exit just above the pelvis. With one savage kick the two halves of the were wolf toppled apart in a bloody mess of organs and shredded flesh upon the floor.

Compton then brought his blood splattered rifle to his shoulder and emptied an entire clip of silver tipped rounds into Jacob's chest, specifically the heart and head. The moment his rifle clicked empty he lowered it panting heavily.

"Clear," Joe shouted.

Everyone emerged from cover rifles still held in ready stances. Compton turned to Garlon and helped him to his feet.

"I could have taken him," Garlon growled looking at Jacob's split in half corpse.

"Sure you would have," Dyonia said rolling her eyes.

"Cut the chatter," Joe said. "We've still got a battle to win."


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Showdown

Disclaimer: I own nothing.**  
**

**Battlestar Phoenix**, **Knights of Trope flagship, 2315 hours, A day +2, General Joe Palmer, 1st Vanguard Regiment, 2 Battalion, E Company, Second Platoon, Special Strike Team Codename Texas.**

Joe switched to his Shot gun as they stacked up on the hatch that connected the flight pods with the rest of the ship. A quick search of the hanger bay had confirmed no surviving hostiles and they had left instructions with the surviving deck crew to seal the door behind them once they gone. He keyed his comm system quickly.

"Phoenix Actual this is Texas do you copy?"

_"Loud and clear Texas,_" Lars replied. "_Go ahead."_

"Do we have a fix on Cullen's location?" Joe asked. "We've just eliminated Jacob and we need to be certain of Cullen's location."

"_Confirmed,_" Lars replied. "_We have a siting of him on the Starboard flight pod."_

"Any other targets with him?" Joe asked.

_"Looks like most of his immediate famil_y," Lars replied. "_Including Bella."_

"Hot damn," Compton muttered. "We've got them all in one basket."

_"They've secured the Starboard flight pod and have taken hostages,_" Lars replied. "_Lots of fighting between your location and there though."_

"Don't worry," Joe said. "We'll manage."

_"Copy that Texas,"_ Lars said. _"Phoenix Actual out._"

Garlon forced the hatch open and they swept down the passage quickly. The sounds of gun fire and grenade detonations growing louder with every passing moment. They passed by casualties of the battle, slain crew members and security teams mixed in with many Twitards. The Phoenix's narrow passages and choke points gave it ideal defensive positions against boarding actions but even then, against a determined and well equipped foe it wasn't always enough.

They were forced to detour around several sections that had lost pressure and had been sealed. It was almost five minutes before they finally had someone or something to shoot at. A couple of Twitards opening up on several entrenched Knights who were returning fire from behind a hasty barricade.

"Let's do dis!" Nikolai proclaimed before opening up.

The Twitards, caught once again from a two pronged assault crumpled quickly beneath a withering hail of fire. Within moments the hall way was secured.

"Good to see you Joe," a familiar voice said from the barricade.

"Xion?" Joe said in surprise as the nobody extricated herself from cover. She had several bandages still wrapped around her head but held an M7S Submachine gun comfortably in hand.

"In the flesh," she replied.

"Glad to see you back on your feet flat chest," Gin snarked.

To everyone's surprise it was Dyonia who smacked the werewolf across the back of the head with her rifle.

"Guy was getting annoying," she growled.

"Not cool," Gin growled. "I just head a tussle with Shirtless Joe."

"Not sure that works as a nickname," Tsukune commented.

"Are you fit for duty?" Joe asked Xion, turning away from the absurdity.

"Fit enough," Xion replied. "I've still got a bone to pick with these Twitards anyways."

"Well you're in luck," Garlon growled. "We're looking for the Sparkling one hundred year old virgin."

"Well then I'd best show you the way," Xion said. "Follow me."

She lead them passed the barricade and down many corridors. The Twitards had yet to penetrate this part of the ship it seemed and that was a blessing in and of itself. Still wounded troops were being helped along by their buddies to sick bay many badly burned or bleeding profusely.

"We didn't have much time to prepare," Xion explained. "Sick bay was already filling up with wounded when the Twitards boarded us."

"This is a nightmare," Tal muttered. "Ranger should have seen this coming. Should have prepared the crew better for counter boarding actions."

"Tal we didn't even know the Twitards had a fleet," Joe replied. "Besides it could be worse."

"How?" Tal demanded.

"Oh you just had to say it," Randwin groaned.

_"Texas this is Phoenix Actual do you copy?"_ Lars said suddenly over the radio.

"I read you Phoenx Actual, go ahead," Joe replied coming to a stop.

"_Hostiles have breached Secondary Fire Control,"_ Lars said. "_They're attempting to hack into our point defense weapons systems. If they do that..."_

"The pilots will get slaughtered," Rolo'mono said darkly.

"Understood," Joe said, "Mark us a nav point."

A marker appeared less than a hundred meters away on Joe's hud.

_"I'm diverting additional squads to try and retake the fire control center,_" Lars continued. "_But we're stretched thin and they've set up an MG. We also believe one of the Cullen family to be leading the attack."_

"Nothing we can't handle sir," Garlon said while Compton warmed up his chainsaw.

"We need to focus on Cullen," Tal said. "If he gets away this has all been for nothing."

"He's not going anywhere with the hanger pods closed down," Joe said. "We need to regain control of those guns."

"I hope we don't regret this," Tal muttered.

"Let's move it people," Joe said taking point with his shot gun.

The double timed charge towards the secondary fire control center blurred to Joe. He figured it was exhaustion and combat fatigue taking their toll at last upon his mind. The signs of battle were returning; screams, gun fire, and explosions. There were also fresh corpses, most crew men of the Phoenix to his dismay.

The sounds of a light machine gun however soon began to drown out any other sound, echoing through the ships passages. The signs on the floor told him they were going the right way, as did the nav point on his hud which quickly trickled into the low twenties.

At last they came upon a body strewn t shaped passage way which at one end had a light machine gun. Said machine gun immediately opened up on them forcing them into cover.

"Garlon, Compton," Joe shouted over the heavy fire. "Work you magic!"

"You got it," Garlon replied with a feral grin.

Compton handed the Orc Sergeant a spike grenade whilst he perused the corpses on the ground.

"What are you doing?" Raenar demanded.

"Looking for a suitable meat shield," Compton replied.

A moment later he pulled up a fallen Twitard wearing a bullet proof vest, and a bullet hole between the eyes. The Orc and human then stacked up with Compton slinging his lancer in favor of his M6S, propping up the dead Twitard with his free arm. Garlon meanwhile took cover behind them with to prepare the spike grenade.

"Get ready to charge in after us," Garlon said.

Joe nodded.

Then Garlon gave Compton three pats on the shoulder and they moved into the hallway. Bullets tore into the corpse which flailed a little with each hit that didn't strike the chest. Still Compton pressed on, firing his pistol over the cadaver's shoulder whilst Garlon prepared the grenade. Then with a roar the Orc tossed the grenade at the Machine gun and the gunner screamed in agony as the bladed grenade cut into her chest. There was a blast followed by more screams and Compton let the corpse fall and brought up his Lancer.

"Go! Go! Go!" Joe shouted charging in with his shot gun ready.

He charged into the secondary fire control center. The room was two tiered and octangular. On each tier were banks of computers and monitors that relayed target data to the now dead personnel, slumped over at their work stations. In their places were angry Twitards with weapons ready.

Joe blasted the closest one down with two quick shot before taking cover. The other followed him in firing their weapons, it was almost to tight of quarters for so many people. Shots rang out from all direction with people yelling and screaming amidst the weapons fire. Joe got up to take another shot.

Then someone tackled him and grabbed him around the throat with pale fingers. Joe gagged, struggling against his attacker who had a vice like grip and pale hair. His world began to go black...

Then a blast of blood red Ice slammed into his attacker who was thrown off him. Joe gasped for air, coughing involuntarily.

"Get away from him," Mizore said in deathly serious tones.

With a cry Joe's attacker jumped at Mizore his hands outstretched like claws. With one strike he sent the snow fairy crashing to the deck.

"Mizore," Joe wheezed out in dismay.

Then suddenly Moka landed a kick on the Vampire forcing him away from the injured Irregular. The Cullen laughed.

"You think to challenge a Vampire little girl?" He said in mocking tones. "I am Carlisle Cullen, head of the..."

Then Tsukune struck him in the gut with a punch flinging him back.

"I believe you need to learn your place," Moka said with a smirk.

"Was that supposed to hurt?" Carlisle asked rising once more. "I barely felt that."

Bullets tore at him from Tal, Compton, Galron, and Nikolai but they hardly seemed to phase him.

"You're bullets cannot harm me," Carlisle said with a small laugh.

"Then face the light!" Randwin proclaimed.

There was a flash of golden white light from Randwin's hands and Carlisle stumbled back with cries of pain.

"Nice work," Xion commented.

Then Carlisle laughed and threw a chair at Randwin. The Paladin crashed to the floor while the Cullen laughed once more.

"You think you're little "holy powers" can harm me?" He asked mockingly.

"What does it take to kill this guy?" Gin snarled.

Joe screwed up his mind trying to think, trying to remember Ranger's instructions on how to fight some one like one of the Cullens. All the while Raenar charged in with his axe, clashing with the eldest Cullen. The Death Knight and the Vampire exchanged blow after blow but no matter how many times or whatever Raenar stuck Carlisle with he could do no serious damage.

"I need mine thinking wodka," Nikolai said pulling out a bottle.

Then it clicked in Joe's head.

"Nikolai throw your vodka at him!" He shouted, struggling up.

"Vhat?" Nikolai demanded aghast. "You are kidding me?"

"Do it!" Joe shouted.

"But its mine last bottle," Nikolai said clutching at the liquor.

"Oh give me that," Moka said snatching the bottle from him and then throwing it at Carlisle. The Eldest call cursed as the drink smashed open on him covering him in alcohol.

"NO!" Nikolai cried out, falling to his knees.

"Some one set him on fire!" Joe shouted.

"What?" Carlisle said suddenly alarmed.

"Done," Garlon said igniting his lighter and then throwing it at the Eldest Cullen.

In half a second the ancient "Vampire" covered in flames and flailing about screaming.

"Everyone hit him!" Joe shouted.

He brought up his shot gun and opened fire as the others joined in spraying Carlisle with bullets and shells. A moment later Carlisle collapsed to his knees as the ships fire suppression systems took over spraying water all over the place. By the time the first drops reached him Carlisle was nothing more than a pile of ashes.

"They're weak against fire," Joe said grimly as Garlon recovered his lighter. "They burn real easy once ignited."

"So they're immune to water, crosses, holy forces, sunlight, silver, garlic, and wooden stakes," Dyonia said. "But not fire?"

"Who came up with that shit?" Weblade asked as he tended to Randwin.

Joe hurried over to help Mizore to her feet.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Fine," she replied.

He gave a small smile.

"Thanks for the save by the way," he said. "He nearly had me."

"Can we please focus on the mission?" Tal asked waiting by the door.

Joe nodded and switched on his radio again.

"Phoenix Actual this is Texas," he said. "Secondary objective completed."

_"Roger that Texas,_" Lars said. "_Proceed to primary objective quickly."_

"_You hear that boys and girls,_" Ranger said breaking in over the comms. "_Phoenix is still ours! Lets mop these bastards up! Lowest kill count buys the drinks!_"

Joe allowed himself a smile again. It was almost over, almost done.

**Sol System, Earth, Knights of Trope Battlestar Phoenix Air Group, Watcher Valkyrie Super S Squadron, Commander Ranger, Watcher 1, 2331 hours, A day +2.**

Ranger meanwhile wasn't having as easy a time of it as he would have liked. Though the bulk of the enemy capital ships were out of the fight now the enemy fighter support still out numbered the dwindling Knights of Trope air forces by a considerable margin. Worse still fire had slackened from the _Phoenix_ after secondary fire control had nearly been captured while the_ Revan_ and_ Kamina_ had only so much left to shoot with.

He zeroed in on the tail of another 170, evading its laser turret fire. He only had a few missiles left and his main gun was at barely fourteen percent ammunition remaining. He lined up his shot and fired off a burst for half a second. The pilot of the 170 attempted an evasive roll to avoid the shots only to have the crafts port wings sheered off by Ranger's fire. The craft spun wildly before crashing into the burning hull plating of a Venator.

As he pulled up to seek new foes however another Viper mark VII erupted into flames with three V wing fighters on its tail. Ranger cursed and brought his Valkyrie about and tried to get a missile lock. The V wings scattered forcing him to pick of only one with a single missile whilst the others escaped to find more kills.

Barely half the Knights of Trope single ships were still flying. A third of those that were no longer in the fighting had made emergency landings on the _Kamina_. The deck crews on the Phoenix were struggling to clear the port flight pod but even if they did get enough room cleared for landings they would still need to get the Flight Pods opened, something the Twitards had apparently managed to take control of.

Suddenly laser blasts slashed past his cockpit and Ranger looked "up". Coming down at him was yet another 170 followed by a V wing. Ranger cursed and "dove" down under the dying Venator hoping to give his pursuers the slip. They refused however to let him slip away tearing at him with laser fire.

"This is Watcher Leader," he called into his radio. "I got bandits on my six and need support over."

"_Hold on sir,"_ a clearly sangheili voice replied. _"We're a little late but its better than never._"

Ranger glanced over his shoulder just in time to see cannon fire tear the V wing apart while the 170 attempted to evade. A missile put an end to that dream in a molten fire ball.

He looked down to see a little over a half dozen Viper Mark VII's rising up to enter the battle.

"_Viper Intercept Squadron 4,_" the sangheili said, _"reporting for duty commander."_

"I appreciate the assist pilot," Ranger replied. "You guys good to go?"

_"You know it._"

They pulled up as group over the Venator to rejoin the main battle even as more Twitard fighters began swarming towards them.

_"Weapons free everyone!"_ The sangheili shouted and the Vipers opened up with their cannons. Still no matter many they killed their always seemed to be more and more of the bastards swarming in on them like flies to a corpse.

"Don't let up," Ranger shouted.

Suddenly several missiles smashed into the attacking fighters which erupted into flames.

_"Sorry if we're a little late Ranger,"_ a male voice said brightly.

Ranger glanced towards the source of the attack to see multiple mobile suits approaching the raging battle.

"You're more than a little late Quill," he growled.

"_Well you know what they say,_" Hurricane's Quill replied, _"better late than never."_

"Just get in here and start killing things," Ranger said.

_"Keep your hair on,"_ Quill said. _"We're coming."_

Ranger shook his head and then his eyes fell upon the_ Phoenix_. Somewhere aboard HIS ship Edward Cullen was trying to make an escape. He would rather hang himself than let the Sparkling Douche Wonder escape from his own ship.

**Battlestar Phoenix**, **Knights of Trope flagship, 2347 hours, A day +2, General Joe Palmer, 1st Vanguard Regiment, 2 Battalion, E Company, Second Platoon, Special Strike Team Codename Texas.**

Joe slammed the butt plate of his AA-12 into the skull of yet another Twitard before pumping a round into his fallen foe. They had been ambushed coming down a corridor to the Flight Pod. More than a dozen Twitards had jumped them at close range and they were now grappling with them in melee.

Tsukune broke the neck of one with a punch, while Moka shattered another's rib cage with a kick. Nikolai was viciously stabbing one repeatedly with his knife while Tal pinned another blew her skull out with a pistol. Dyonia's knives were red with blood from two fallen enemies while Xion's keyblade was splattered with gore. Mizore had used some of the fallen blood to freeze one Twitard solid against a bulkhead while Weblade was carving another open with a scalpel. Compton's chainsaw was roaring along with Gin's snarls as they tore apart their own foes. Rolo'mono stabbed everything he could reach with a plasma knife. Meanwhile Randwin, Raenar, and Garlon laid into the enemy with their blades in brutal close quarters.

Weary and wounded as they were the Twitards were no match for his squad. It was something to be proud of.

"Next victims," Dyonia said wiping her blades clean on a corpse.

"Personally I'd rather that be the last of them we see for a while," Tsukune admitted.

Then suddenly Joe's helmet radio came to life again.

"_Texas this Phoenix Actual, what is your position?"_ Lars asked his voice frantic.

"_Phoenix_ Actual," Joe said as a frown cut across his face. "This is Texas we're about..." He glanced at Dyonia who quickly mouthed three minutes. "Three minutes from the Flight Pod."

"_Well pick up the pace_," Lars replied. "_Camera's have confirmed that Cullen is preping a Raptor for flight._"

Tal cursed.

"Fierfeks!" He snarled. "They get that thing ready to go they can slip away right under our noes!"

"They can't take off without opening the flight pod right?" Joe asked his mind racing to form a plan.

"_Normally yes_," Lars replied. "_But they could jump inside the ship. The damage would be catastrophic."_

"They would put themselves at risk as well," Rolo'mono cut in. "Jumping on a crowded deck like the flight pod right now would play hell with navigation they'd like as not jump right into one of the wrecks."

"Okay here's the plan," Joe said quickly. "Tal you take a fire team and secure the flight pod controls. I'll head for the hanger deck and try and stop them from launching."

"But..."

"If they take off," Joe snapped. "Then everything we've fought for has been meaningless. Everyone whose died will have died in vain. Got it?"

"Of course," Tal replied. "Randwin, Dyonia, Raenar, Rolo'mono, you're all with me."

"Have fun storming the hanger," Randwin said as they hurried off down a side passage.

Joe checked his watch, it was nearly midnight.

"We don't have a lot of time," he muttered. "Lets move!"

They ran as fast as they could down the corridors gunning down any Twitard that dared try to stop them. A hastily established Machine gun nest held them up for a few seconds before Compton and Garlon successfully disabled it.

At last they reached the blast doors that lead to the starboard flight pod. Joe tried the lock only to discover that it was broken.

"We need this door open now!" He snarled.

"Move," Xion pushing him aside. She gave her Keyblade a wave then tapped it against the locking mechanism. With a hiss the blast doors yawned open to admit them.

"Handy," Gin commented before they hurried on through.

The Hanger deck was much like the one on the port side. Strewn with bodies, mostly crew men with few Twitards scattered amongst the mix. Worst was a heap of bodies near the center of the deck, lined up in rows and all shot in the back of the head.

"Bastards were executing prisoners," Joe snarled.

"Joe," Mizore whispered.

She pointed to far elevators into which a Raptor was being loaded. A few figures were milling about its open hatch in the process of boarding.

"Anyone got anything to burn them with?" Joe asked.

Xion then tossed him a single magazine for his M4A1.

"Incendiary rounds," she whispered. "Picked them up in that armory we passed."

"Only got one shot with this," Joe muttered.

"Make it count," Mizore said.

"We'll cover you," Garlon growled.

Joe nodded.

"On three."

Everyone tensed picking their targets from the patrolling Twitards.

"One."

Joe switched to his M4 and loaded the incendiary rounds.

"Two."

Garlon shifted his aim.

"Three."

Joe charged onto the deck stepping over fallen corpses, bringing up his rifle. Around him Twitards were dropping rapidly under precise fire from his squad. He drowned it out however; the shooting, the screaming, the shouting, all of it was just background static. He took aim with his rifle and fired on the closest figure to the Raptor.

The figure dropped eliciting a scream of rage from a male voice.

"BELLA!"

Joe hit another target and then another.

Then a round a caught him in the chest and he fell with a curse. He hit the deck plating hard with last of the incendiary rounds going off harmlessly against the ceiling. He checked his wound. It had left a nasty dent in his breastplate and he could feel several cracked ribs underneath but as far as he could tell that was the worst of it.

"Edward we have to go now!" Another male voice shouted.

Joe struggled to try and get up but the pain in his chest was to great. He was starting to have trouble breathing. Had something hit his lungs?

"Joe!" Some one shouted. He could feel foot steps upon the deck as someone ran to him. Mizore loomed over him her face genuinely terrified.

_"Texas this is Ordo_!" Tal shouted over the radio. _"The Flight Pods are open we're trying to recapture the controls but are meeting stiff resistance! Is the target down?"_

He looked across his chest to see the elevator doors close and could hear the lift begin to rise.

"_Ordo we've got a Raptor ready to launch!"_ Lars exclaimed._ "We need the pods closed now!"_

_"Working on it!"_

_"They're taking off!"_

_"Pod closing!"_

_"To slow! They'll make it through!"_

_"Shoot them down then!"_

_"All Point Defense guns around the Starboard flight pod are inoperable!"_

_"Damnit! Someone stop them!"_

"_Is this thing on?"_ Ranger said suddenly cutting in. _"This is Ranger and I am broadcasting across all channels. To Sparkles McDouchefag. FUCK YOU!"_

**Sol System, Earth, Knights of Trope Battlestar Phoenix Air Group, Watcher Valkyrie Super S Squadron, Commander Ranger, Watcher 1, 2350 hours, A day +2.**

Ranger had quiet clearly seen the one chance to stop Cullen from escaping. Even as the Flight pod was retracting he dove in on it pushing the Valkyries engines to their limit. He armed his machine gun and took aim. He had less than half a second to make the shot.

He fired and was rewarded with a fiery explosion from the Raptor's engines. The stolen craft tumbled to the deck, hitting nose first before flipping end over end. It was almost hilarious to watch from his point of view.

He was into close now though, no way he could turn away in time to avoid colliding with the armored hulk of the _Phoenix_. So he grit his teeth and increased speed trying to get inside of the Flight pod. He almost cleared it...

The closing pod sheared off the tail of his Valkyrie and the craft spun out wildly. He held on for dear life as he flipped repeatedly, smashing into gunships and wreckage. Alarm sirens screamed at him, his displays flashing a painful red as fires burst to life about his tale.

At last with a thud he hit the deck, slamming hard enough on his left side that he was certain he had dislocated his shoulder. The Valkyrie flipped again and then again, the cockpit shattered apart on the third flip. Finally the craft came to a bone jarring thud thankfully right side up.

Clutching his shoulder, Ranger grit his teeth and then forced the bones back into place. A stream of curses were released before he began to power down his ruined craft. He released crash webbing and pulled himself out.

The flight deck was covered in wreckage now, burning gunships and the remains of his Valkyrie. He drew Luna, thankfully undamaged from his hip holster and his trusty seax knife. With caution he made his way along the deck eyes alert for any signs of movement.

Suddenly a figure covered in flames stumbled into his view screaming in agony and clutching at its burning flesh. Ranger did not waste a second, two shots from Luna was his response. One round tore a chunk out of the figures head while the other struck where the heart should have been. The figure crumbled into a pile of ashes a second later.

"One less Sparkly Douche," he muttered.

He moved towards the wreckage of the Raptor eyes trained for more targets but he could see none. The Raptor has crashed up side down and its entire aft half was smoldering wreckage strewn across the deck. The hatch was open however and inside Ranger could see several burning bodies. Without hesitation he poped a round into the head and heart of each one save for the pilot. He clambered inside the wrecked craft and checked the pilots face. It was a young Quarian pilot, male. Suits mask had been shattered on crash but it was clear to Ranger that it hadn't been infection that had killed the pilot but the crash.

With a sigh he removed the pilots tags.

"I am sorry," he said. "Keelah Se'lai son of Rannoch, be at peace."

"Peace is one thing you won't get!"

Suddenly an arm was wrapped around Ranger's throat while another his right arm with which he held Luna to his side. Ranger struggled and cursed trying to break free.

"Cullen," he hissed.

"You couldn't leave well enough alone," Edward Cullen hissed.

The phoney vampire dragged Ranger out of the remains of the Raptor and then slammed him to the floor. The impact made Luna go off by accident and Ranger swore violently as round grazed his suit. He could feel hot blood dripping from the fresh wound and felt dead air against his palms, the hammer had torn open his gloves.

"You think I'd let something like you exist?" Ranger snarled. "You're no real Vampire, I've met plenty. Even the chicks had more balls than you."

"No," Edward replied. "I am not like them. I am a true apex Vampire; I need not fear the sun, no weapons can harm me, all your rituals and magics are worthless against me, I am eternally youthful, and do not harm the local populace for I have no need of their blood, I am-"

"A guy who was a Virgin for over a century?" Ranger hissed. "Then you knocked up the dumbest fugliest bitch on the planet and made a daughter with a fucking retarded name."

Cullen's fist slammed against the back of Ranger's helmet. His visor shattered against the deck plating and his head spun violently.

"You will not speak ill of my family!" Edward snarled.

"Why?" Ranger snapped. "Me and my people have pretty much killed them all."

"I'll rip your throat out!" Edward shouted.

"Then do it!" Ranger replied. "What are you waiting for? Come at me bro! My necks right there! Just rip my suit open and take a nice bite of man meat!"

"What?"

"I was implying you are sparkly gender confused faggot."

Cullen struck him once again and Ranger cursed as the shards of his visor cut his face.

"It was not by my hand that this began," Edward hissed. "My followers heard your threats and gathered about me, offering their bodies and their blood as tribute to my perfection."

"Tribute?" Ranger glowered. "You steal stupid fourteen year old girls, and prison inmates souls, and make them your slaves!"

"What are fourteen year old girls and prison inmates?" Edward demanded. "Miserable piles of imperfection! Enough talk!"

He struck Ranger again, Ranger was pretty sure he lost a few brain cells from this blow.

"You are my ticket out of here," Edward hissed. "You are my hostage, I am going to use you as leverage to secure another Raptor and escape from this disaster. I will start a new while you will likely be in prison for property damages and allowing a wanted man to escape. What do you say to that human?"

"Final Twilight," Ranger spat.

Cullen frowned.

"What does Breaking Dawn have to do with this?" He asked.

Then suddenly Rangers suit bleached itself silver and with a fierce tug he broke free of Cullen's grasp. A savage Mule kick sent Cullen flying through the air to land in a sprawling heap against the wreckage of the Raptor. Ranger stood up, removing his helmet and tossing it aside.

"There's not much air in here," he said switching his knife into his right hand and Luna to his left. "So I'll have to kick your ass quickly."

"Have at thee!" Edward snarled charging him.

Ranger meet him half way slashing out with his knife. Cullen ducked under the strike and landed a punch to Ranger's chest. Blood sprayed from Ranger's lips as he felt a few ribs break with the blow. Cullen moved for a second strike but two shots from Luna caught him in face. He stumbled back and Ranger had room to strike with the knife again. He slashed at Edwards throat but the weapon merely glanced off of the false vampire's flesh.

Cullen struck back and with a punch sent Luna flying from Ranger's hands. The weapon discharged its last shot uselessly into a bulkhead. Ranger crused as the intense pain in his left hand informed him of several broken fingers. Cullen tried to sweep his legs but Ranger jumped back to evade the blow.

He gathered power to the knife blade and then slashed at Cullen's chest with a cry of "Twilight Slash!" He hit and this time the blade pierced the skin thick dark blood oozed out of the shallow wound. It was as slow as molasses however to viscus to bleed properly. Cullen was however furious for having been struck.

He back handed Ranger with such force the he crashed to the deck ten feet away. Ranger could feel hot blood dripping from his hair and knew he'd hit something bad. His scalp was practically numb from the pain. His twilight powers tried to seal the wounds but were working far to slow.

He struggled to his feet, his coordination thrown off slightly by Cullen's blow. He turned to face the false vampire and straightened. Cullen glared at him eyes glowing gold, the wrong color for a Vampire in a rage.

Ranger laughed, it hurt but he still laughed. He could taste blood in his mouth and hoped that he had just bite his cheek or something on landing.

"What the hell is so funny?" Edward snapped.

"You're not really impressing Sparkles," Ranger said dryly, wiping a bit of blood from his lips. "If you were a real Vampire I would probably be dead right now."

"You!"

"I don't have my swords," Ranger continued. "I don't have my bow, my other pistol, or my shot gun. I've got no grenades and my only gun his been removed from me. I'm fighting with a knife, unarmored, and after having flown in combat for the past two hours and having had very little sleep in the past few days. I'm in awful shape and I'm still able to kick your ass."

"From where I'm standing you seem to be taking the worst of this this," Edward sneered.

"And I'm only at my first stage power increase," Ranger added. "And I'm pretty sure I don't need my Mastery form to kill you."

Edward's eyes flashed with rage.

"Let's see we finish this?" Ranger suggested. He sheathed his knife and began flexing the fingers in his right hand. "Let's settle this on one last blow."

"Your mad," Edward hissed.

"Come on Sparkles," Ranger replied with a savage grin. "Give me everything you've got."

They charged one another, each pulling back their right fist to deliver their blow. Time seemed to slow, every second unwilling to miss out on the final clash. Ranger whispered a few choice words under his breath and his first began to glow silver.

Then they collided. Cullen's blow struck Ranger in his battered rib cage while Ranger's blow hit Cullen dead center in the face. Cuts burst open on Ranger's knuckles, it was like striking iron. Ranger's ribs cracked under the blow and he could feel blood on his ruptured chest. Cullen grinned, a savage smile of victory. He laughed, a mad cackling laugh of insanity, vanity, and triumph.

"Any last words?" Cullen asked between chuckles.

"Let's see you dance sparkles."

"What?" Cullen asked confused.

Ranger smiled once more, blood lining his teeth.

"Twilight Frigra."

A silver flame erupted from Ranger's fist and struck Cullen clean in the face. He shrieked in agony clutching at his burning eyes howling uncontrollably. Ranger stumbled back gasping for breath and coughing up blood as Cullen flailed about wildly screaming as his flesh was seared and began to turn to ash.

With a savage tug Ranger drew out his knife once more and charged forwards. With another cry of Twilight slash, he severed Edward's head from his shoulders. Then for the final blow he pulled back and plunged the blade towards Edward's heart. He smashed through weakened flesh, bone, and muscle that could not withstand the high heat. His knife pierced Edward's heart and with a savage yank, Ranger pulled it out to view it even as its owner's corpse fell to the deck already breaking down into ash.

It was black and feeble, withered and foul. It had been dead for a hundred years and no one had bothered to check if it still worked. A pitiful, spiteful, wretched little thing. Then before his eyes it broke down in ashes and fell to deck in a heap. So ended Edward Cullen, the blight upon the name of all Vampires and the most annoying thing since the first evolution of the mosquito.

Ranger fell to the deck panting heavily. He coughed up a bit more blood. Then he started laughing as a relief spilled over him. It was over the fight was over. He'd won, he'd killed the sparkling douche. He coughed up more blood.

He was still grinning when he blacked out.


	22. Epilogue

Epilogue

Disclaimer: I own nothing

**Battlestar Phoenix, Knights of Trope flagship, in geosynchronous orbit over Seattle Washington, 1154 hours military time, A day +19**

Not long after Edward Cullen's death the Twitard fleet had been utterly obliterated down to the last fighter. The Twitards who had boarded the _Phoenix_ were quickly rooted out and either surrendered or died fighting. Most of their transports had been removed to the lower decks for study and investigation so as to learn where they had come from.

On the ground the fighting had dragged on for another week as the Knights of Trope hunted down surviving enemy troops. It was hard and costly work, many Twitards refused to surrender and fought to the death. The ghouls were thankfully cleared out much faster and with the arrival of additional forces the Knights of Trope had secured the city.

The costs had been high however leaving the victory bittersweet. Four and a half thousand Members of the Knights of Trope had died in the entire war with double that wounded or missing in action. The three battlestars had been badly damaged in the assault, hundreds of pilots had been killed in action, and dozens of ground vehicles had been destroyed. The town of Forks was ravaged and Seattle had been gutted by the fighting. Over thirty eight thousand civilians had been turned into ghouls by the Twitards or killed in all of the cross fire with many more left homeless.

And here Ranger sat around the conference table with Joe and Tal having to explain just why it had all happened and why they all shouldn't be charged with war crimes. Ranger honestly wished they could have waited on this. He and Joe were still a long way from a full recovery of their various and insane injuries.

Ranger had improperly relocated his left shoulder, broken all of the fingers in his left hand, broken half his ribs, broken two fingers in his right hand, had a minor concussion, internal bleeding from damaged tissue and bone fragments, had lost half a liter of blood, and had torn a few tendons in his right leg. Joe had three broken ribs, a torn tendon in his right arm, sever bruising, numerous minor wounds that had nearly gone green before antibiotics had been properly applied, a collapsed lung, three broken toes, a ruptured ear drum, and serious blood loss. It was a miracle both of them had survived.

Still the look on Roy Campbell's face was not one of sympathy but of aggravation and irritation.

"_Massive property damage,_" Campbell started. _"Thousands of lives lost, two cities ravaged by war, and a near outbreak of zombies. Things are not exactly looking very strong for your case."_

"_I would disagree,_" Mina Tepes said. "_The Knights of Trope completed their mission with acceptable losses and brought a terrible blight to my people to justice."_

_"Respectfully your highness,"_ Campbell replied. "_I fail to see over a hundred thousand deaths, both combatants and non combatants can be so easily swept under the rug."_

"_I was merely stating a fact Mr. Campbell,_" Mina said. "_And offering my sincere thanks."_

_"Be that as it may,_" Campbell replied. _"The charges still stand. You better have a very good reason for why the security council should just let this go or you two won't be getting out of prison until your older than I am."_

Ranger nodded, wincing slightly as he inadvertently tug a sore shoulder muscle.

"Mr. Campbell," he said. "I am certain you have seen our after action reports?"

_"I have,"_ Campbell replied.

"The enemy hit us with Russian main battle tanks, nuclear missiles, MIGs, had an AT-TE, an advanced EMP device, top of the line mobile suits, and a fleet of warships that damn near put us all in the grave," Ranger stated. "That sort of equipment does not come cheap."

_"I am aware of that Commander,_" Campbell replied. _"I trust you are making inquiries?_"

Ranger nodded to Tal.

"Most of the computer systems that we salvaged from enemy vessels were wiped." The Mandolorian explained grimly. "They defaced the serial numbers and wiped the registries. Judging from the condition most of the stuff was in it was purchased from pirates and black market dealers."

"Mr. Campbell," Ranger said. "They managed to get this sort of equipment here, on Earth. The cradle of humanity. We're dealing with an organization that has extensive skill in gathering valuable military equipment and smuggling it into war zones. It obvious they represent a massive threat that goes beyond national or global boundaries."

"_And you want to go after them?"_ Campbell asked following Ranger's train of thought.

"We've got a lot of bodies to avenge," Joe said. "Wouldn't mind a little pay back with interest."

Campbell frowned.

"We're asking for a chance to set things right," Ranger said almost pleadingly. "Give us ten years. If we haven't found them by then you can lock us up and throw away the key."

The former Colonel sighed deeply.

"_I'll present you statements to the comity,_" Campbell said in a weary voice. _"Don't expect much."_

"We understand Mr. Campbell," Ranger replied. "Thank you."

_"This won't take long,"_ Campbell warned before vanishing.

Ranger sighed and leaned back in his seat, wincing slightly as he accidentally put pressure on his tender ribs.

"So what do you think or chances are?" Joe asked him dismally.

Ranger shrugged in response.

"We'll probably be sent prison with triple life sentences."

_"I could pull strings to grant you amnesty,"_ Mina suggested.

"That's kind of you to offer your majesty," Ranger said.

"But if we have to pay for this, we'll pay for it," Joe replied. "We may not like it, but we'll do it."

_"How noble,"_ Mr. Wyren said dryly. "_And an utter waste of ability and talent."_

"Did you just compliment me?" Ranger asked.

_"And of my money._"

"Ah!" Ranger said brightly. "Knew there was a catch."

_"There is always a catch boy,_" Mr. Wyren replied. _"I am however glad to see that you've started to learn that lesson."_

"Ass," Ranger muttered under his breath.

_"What was that?"_

"Nothing," Ranger yelped.

Joe laughed for a moment before wincing.

"What?" Ranger demanded.

"Never thought I'd see the day when something scared you like that," Joe said grinning.

_"This is nothing,"_ Mr. Wyren said. _"You should see him when we are face to face."_

"Remind me to sell tickets then," Joe replied still grinning.

"Can we focus here?" Tal asked. "You two kind of might be going to prison."

_"It's gallows humor,"_ Mina answered._ "Besides you've been cleared already haven't you?"_

Tal shifted uncomfortably.

"Well seeing as how it was just a job for these two jokers," he said. "They passed any charges against me to them."

"Well if we do end up in prison you be sure to visit us won't you?" Joe asked.

"If I'm in the neighborhood," Tal replied.

"Oh that is cold," Ranger said in a tone of mock dismay.

They fell silent for a minute, no one speaking, everyone struggling to find words for thoughts they tried to string together. Anything would be better that this silent painful waiting for their sentencing.

Then Campbell reappeared his face grim and impassive.

_"Gentlemen,_" he began, "_and Lady."_

Mina nodded.

"_The security council has reached its decision,"_ he resumed. _"Commander Ranger, General Palmer do you have any final remarks?"_

"None," Ranger replied and Joe shook his head.

Campbell nodded.

_"Very well then."_

**Southern Mediterranean Sea, Cruise Liner Concord Dawn, 0605 3 months later.**

The _Concord Dawn_ was a fine luxury liner, catering to all peoples and providing a top of the line pampering to all. Or at least it usually did. Terrorists from an as of yet unknown organization had hijacked the ship and were moving it and its some three hundred forty passengers and crew to international waters. The terrorist were confirmed to be well armed and had complete control of the vessel. They had made demands already for over two billion dollars in bare bonds be brought to the ship via helicopter.

While the hostages were trapped however politicians argued over what should be done. The ship was of British registry, had been built in Italy, half its passengers were french, it had diplomats from two different north African nations, and a congressmen aboard. To say that the situation was a jurisdiction nightmare was putting it lightly.

While political leaders squabbled however, others took action.

A trio of small boats approached the ship in the predawn light, using wooden paddles to get themselves closer and the darkness to mask their approach. They came up along side and their occupants silently threw grappling hooks onto the decks. With automatic pulleys they rose up onto the deck quickly and secured a foot hold.

One pointed to a watchmen who had his back turned to them and another nodded, bringing up a customized crossbow. One silent shot later and the man collapsed dead a bolt through his voice box. The attackers fanned out moving along the decks in teams of three, silently killing the terrorists on deck. It took a few minutes of silent slaughter before they had secured the deck.

They regrouped near the ships emergency landing pad and the leader touched the side of his helmet.

"_Phoenix_, this is Texas," Joe said. "Ready for reinforcements."

_"Roger that Texas,_" Lars replied. _"Stand by."_

A second later there was an insanely loud crack as a pair of Raptor's FTL jumped less than half a mile away from the ship. They shot towards the vessel lighting quick and touched down perfectly. The side hatches opened a dozen Knights of Trope Knights scrambled out with Lancers raised. Ranger hopped out right behind them, Luna in his left hand which was now healed.

"You ready?" Joe asked.

As he did a half dozen Terrorists came up onto the deck and stared dumbstruck at the new arrivals as if unable to comprehend what they were seeing. Ranger grinned and drew his longsword.

"Always," he replied.

The he set his face into a fierce glower.

"LET'S DO THIS!" He shouted before charging in, with the rest of the Knights behind him.

**THE END.**

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**Ranger24: And there it is folks. The end of this story. More Knights of Trope tales will be coming I promise. There is more Knights of Trope content however on my deviantart page at ranger24 dot deviantart dot com. You can find overviews, a series of journal entries and more information about the Knights of Trope and KoT universe there. For now though this is Ranger24 wishing you all a happy holidays and a good night. See you later.**


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